


switched.exe

by Chiharu, Ethereally



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Inappropriate Usage of Pepe the Frog, Mentions of Love Live School Idol Festival, Obvious Parent Trap AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-08-22 05:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8273875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiharu/pseuds/Chiharu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/pseuds/Ethereally
Summary: After meeting at summer camp, Kim Saeyoung and Choi Saeran come to the conclusion that they are twins separated at birth. They decide to switch places when camp ends, wanting to meet their other parent and to bring their family back together. Mayhem, hijinks, and memes ensue.
AKA, the Parent Trap AU nobody asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i have no idea how we ended up taking this parent trap au so seriously but here you go. 
> 
> special thanks to ao3 user parasolghost for beta-ing this! we hope you enjoyed reading this as much as we enjoyed writing the first chapter.
> 
> signed, counselor jang and counselor im

Saeran's machine returns a compiling error just as the loud redhead yells from across the lounge, his laughter ringing irritatingly in Saeran's ear. Summer in Seoul is hot, irritating, and practically burns, and Saeran doesn't have the energy to play nice with obnoxious kids at camp. He shoots a glare at the group of loudmouths and wills his anger down.

The redhead, who Saeran has only heard being called "Seven" for the last few weeks, meets his eye from across the canteen and smirks. Saeran's gaze snaps right down to his laptop as he types furiously back in his compiler window. Annoying.

What's even more ludicrous than Seven's existence is how many times other campers have mistaken Saeran for that idiot. First of all, the source of Saeran's headache wears the world's ugliest glasses, which indicate lack of personal taste or self preservation. Secondly, they clearly have different eye colors. It doesn’t escape Saeran’s notice that the idiot's hair is red and vibrant like Saeran’s own before he started bleaching it, but Saeran hasn’t had red hair in years. So what if they have a passing resemblance in bone structure? It can't be _that_ uncommon for people to look alike in Seoul. Yet, Saeran can't count the number of times people have called out to him while mistaking him for Seven, especially when Saeran has his hoodie up.

His mother always says people are more complicated in the city. Saeran didn’t realized that complicated meant _obnoxious_. 

Saeran should have never agreed to come to computer camp in Seoul. He could be spending his summer hanging out with Yoosung and MC, not waging a personal war with imbeciles. He's about to give up on his code when his screen flashes alarmingly, resulting in a wall of scrolling green error texts. The flashing ends with a picture of a red cat with yellow glasses, an unmistakable caricature of someone all too familiar

A virus.

Regardless of how many nerds are here, there can only be one culprit.

 

 

 

There’s a kid who’s got it out for Saeyoung. This means he must be doing something right.

Saeyoung may act silly, but he’s sharp. And he knows he isn’t being paranoid when he notices this rando glaring at him from across the dining hall, bright green eyes boring into Saeyoung’s skull with his every movement, every word. Saeyoung glances up and sticks out his tongue. The weird boy with white hair turns away, hiding his face. Saeyoung grins. Good. He resumes digging into his bag of Honey Buddha Chips, scrolling Reddit on his phone, ignoring the hustle and bustle of computer geek kids laughing and chattering around him. 

He really can’t imagine why some kid who he’s never really spoken to hates him so much, but he supposes it isn’t out of the ordinary. Maybe he’s jealous of Saeyoung? People have been saying the two of them look alike through all of camp, after all. Still, that’s no reason to be giving Saeyoung crap, especially when Saeyoung has been nothing but an innocent angel. All he’s been doing so far is making talking robots, pranking camp counselors, and deliberately installing viruses on other kids’ computers for kicks. Just the typical things you’d do at computer camp.

Okay, so maybe the kid has a reason for hating Saeyoung so much. Especially because Saeyoung’s latest virus has targeted _him_.

To Saeyoung’s credit, it isn’t all his fault. White Haired Emo Boy (WHEB) should have been honored to be mistaken for Saeyoung, and glad to take credit for Saeyoung’s awesome pranks. (Saeyoung had made sure to wear his cat beanie whenever he did anything ridiculous, just so the counselors wouldmight think it was WHEB instead. This is what he gets for being so charitable and kind, and for putting soap bubbles in the drinking fountain.) Most of all, WHEB should have taken more care to stop random hackers from going in and messing with his code, and strengthened his firewall so Saeyoung couldn’t install a virus that turned all his icons into Nyan Cats, and all his photos into pictures of Honoka from Love Live School Idol Festival. You’d think that another l337 haxx0r genius kid would see this coming!

Still, Saeyoung had thought that he’d covered his ass. Saeyoung had, for the longest time, and truly, from the bottom of his aching heart, believed that there was no way that the virus would be traced back to him, but he isn’t so sure any more. He frowns, eyes meeting WHEB’s again, and he waggles his eyebrows.

“Longcat got your tongue?” Saeyoung hollers at him.

Well, come to think of it, perhaps the memes were a dead giveaway. Welp, too late to fix that now, because WHEB has slammed the screen of his laptop shut and is charging towards him with murder in his eyes. If he dies young, bury him in a sea of Honey Buddha Chips. 

 

 

 

Saeran hadn't given much thought to what he's going to do, but the idiot's grating grin only heightens his anger.

"What's up, Buttercup?" Seven asks cheekily.

"You know what's up," Saeran hisses. He'd always thought the dumbass's eyes were a muddy brown color. Up close, Saeran finds that they're actually bright gold.

Seven leans over the table over his messily scattered food. "That's what she said."

It's not the first time Saeran has heard such an infantile response. "Not to _you_ ," Saeran replies smoothly, earning the laughter and attention of the campers around them. He's pleased to see surprise color Seven's face. Perhaps he's been friends with MC for too long, because Saeran automatically adds, "That joke is sexist and in poor taste. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

Seven recoils immediately, his face going through several expressions before settling on anger. The change in his body language is obvious, turning from relaxed to tense. The noise level dwindles as their conversation catches the attention of other campers. "Take that back! My mom is _dead_."

 _Oh_ , Saeran thinks belatedly, a reluctant apology already on the back of his mind when Seven continues.

"At least my dad loved me enough to raise me not to be a shithead, like _you_!"

Anger flashes through Saeran as he's reminded of empty classrooms and kids whispering behind his back. He's heard this insult countless times at school and in his neighborhood where ahjummas reprimand Saeran for the color of his hair and his apathetic attitude. Over the years, he's gotten good at ignoring similar comments. Still, hearing it from Seven's mouth induces unbridled rage within him. Saeran has never been good at controlling his anger. His hands act on their own.

The next thing Saeran knows, he's pouring the can of Dr. Pepper over Seven's head. 

Saeran can feel his entire body shaking as the canteen falls eerily silent. He expects a hard shove or maybe a punch in the face, not for Seven to slam a piece of pie at Saeran's face in retaliation. Saeran stumbles back in shock, trying to blink icing out of his eyes.

Saeran is vaguely aware of someone shouting "FOOD FIGHT!" before all hell breaks loose. Someone stands up on a table and throws a slice of pizza across the room. It doesn't hit anyone in particular, but this starts a chain of flying food. Saeran yelps when Seven tackles him to the ground, Saeran kicking and pulling at Seven's hair as noise erupts from all corners of the canteen.

"Take it back!" Seven hollers in Saeran's ear as shouting fills the canteen. His grip on Saeran is surprisingly strong.

Saeran knees Seven in the stomach and uses that momentum to flip them over. "Fuck off!" He hisses and wipes his face clean. When Seven grabs at Saeran’s hair, Saeran tries to bite Seven's hand, which results in a struggle that has them rolling on the ground. They stop only when Saeran's back hits the foot of a chair.

"Admit defeat!" Seven cackles as he holds Saeran in a headlock. He ignores the way Saeran's free hand is grasping for purchase and _laughs_ like a possessed person. How is fighting remotely funny? Saeran has never met someone this ridiculous.

The shrill shriek of a whistle sends the food fight to a grinding halt. Saeran looks up to find a group of red-faced camp counselors on the scene. One counselor looks particularly livid as she heads in their direction, causing Seven to release Saeran.

"Kim Saeyoung! Choi Saeran!" She hollers at them. "You're coming with me now!"

 

 

 

Saeyoung has been in trouble with authorities at school countless times, but this one probably takes the cake. He nods along as the two counselors screech at him and WHEB about the perils of causing trouble and wasting food. Still, this isn’t too bad. The words that the counsellors are slinging at him and WHEB are ones he’s all heard before: Saeyoung can mostly tune them out. Big trouble, blah blah blah, never in the history of this computer camp has anyone started a food fight, et cetera, et cetera, dishonor on your parents and your cow. Saeyoung plasters the most sheepish look possible on his face, trying to ignore the Dr. Pepper still dripping from his hair. He glances up to look at WHEB—well, Saeran-- who still has pie on his face, and gives him a sheepish grin.

The glare that he receives in return could slice a watermelon in two. When the counsellors aren’t looking, Saeyoung sticks out his tongue. Nobody can tell him he isn’t a paragon of maturity.

“Are you both listening to us?”

Saeyoung glances up to face the counsellor speaking to them, a petite lady called Miss Jang. Ah, here’s the part where he has to act like he’s sorry. He bows his head down, trying his best not to smile. Much as unfortunate circumstances had led him there, the food fight had been kind of fun. Saeyoung nods, trying to sound as regretful as possible. “Yes I am,” he says.

Saeran suddenly pipes up in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Me- me too. I’m very, truly, extremely sorry. I promise you that it won’t happen again.”

Saeyoung nearly bursts out into peals of laughter, but suppresses them with a fake coughing fit. This is the nicest that Saeran has ever sounded, and he has to give him props for the act. Miss Jang’s face softens for a moment before her brow knots again, and she slams a hand on the table. She clears her throat, trying her best to sound stern.

“Originally we wanted to kick you both out of camp, but I’m going to give you boys one more chance. Pack your bags, and be back here in ten minutes. You’re both going to be in the isolation cabin until we’re convinced you’ve truly learned your lesson.”

A pit of dread wells up within Saeyoung. “Wait, I can’t be in the isolation cabin with _him_! He’ll murder me! I am too young and cute to die—”

“Do you think,” Saeran sneers, “I want to be stuck in a cabin with _you_? My head might just explode from noise pollution.”

The other counsellor, a taller lady named Miss Im, gets up from where she is sitting and points to the door. “The two of you better be out of here in a minute, or we’re going to keep you in isolation for the rest of camp.”

Saeyoung isn’t sure he’s ever scampered out of a room so quickly, or with such a sense of impending doom. This is going to be a very long few days. He goes back to his bunk, gathers his belongings, and makes the long, arduous trek up to his new home. Saeyoung pushes the door open to find Saeran already waiting in the room, sitting on the lower bunk of the bed with his head buried in his hands. Saeyoung sighs, plopping down on the bed next to Saeran.

“Well, we’ve got to live with each other for the next few days, I guess,” he mutters. “Look, we should maybe try to not destroy each other. It’s just going to make us both miserable.” Saeyoung extends a hand to shake Saeran’s, but he swats it away. So much for trying not to be miserable. Still, Saeyoung isn’t going to give up so easily. “I can help get rid of the virus on your computer if you want.”

Saeran snaps. “I don’t want to talk. Just leave me alone.”

“Oh, now you’re quiet?” Ugh, this is the worst. Not only does Saeyoung have to deal with Mr. Emo McBlackParade for the next few days, they’re going to spend them in total detestation. Well, he can’t say he hasn’t tried. Saeyoung ponders trying to fight Saeran for the bunk bed but decides against it, instead crawling onto the upper bunk with a resigned sigh. He flops onto the too-hard mattress.

Woe is he. It is so hard to be him and be so cute. Saeyoung rolls onto his tummy and boots up the laptop, beginning to write his program. Even if Saeran doesn’t want him to write the antivirus, it’ll be a fun exercise in troubleshooting. He boots up a program and is about to begin typing away when a voice pipes up from the bottom bunk. “Hey.”

Saeyoung crawls to the side of his bunk, bending down and peering at Saeran. “Yes?”

Saeran is still sitting on the side of the bed, his brow furrowed and drumming his fingers on the mattress like the side antagonist of a video game. “I didn’t know your name was Saeyoung.”

A small smile tugs at the edge of Saeyoung’s lips. Okay, maybe he is going to try to be friendly. “Now you do,” he says. “Most people at camp call me Seven. It’s short for 707, which is LOL upside-down, and if I told you the story behind that, I would have to kill you, and then I’d have to change my name and erase my identity so there’s no trace of me left.”

“Our names,” Saeran interjects. “Saeyoung. Saeran. Isn’t that—

“Weird?” Saeyoung grins. “Yeah, kind of. ‘Sae’ isn’t all that rare though. Coincidence?”

Saeran groans. “Ugh, never mind.” He collapses onto his bunk, falling over and burying his face in his pillow. Saeyoung takes that as a sign that their conversation is over, but hey, this is a start. He returns to his code, making sure to blare Honoka’s solo remix of Snow Halation really loudly from his speakers. 

 

 

 

The AC in the cabin breaks down by the third day. Saeran opens all the windows and thinks there's some mercy in being located deep in the woods. At night, the bug lamp catches flies that Saeyoung feeds to his new pet spider. During the day, Saeran reads the books he's brought from home while Saeyoung watches movies in silence. Saeran personally thinks their pseudo-truce is better than participating in loud camp festivities.

The counselors come three times a day to deliver them food, only to reprimand them for their lack of genuine remorse.

On the fifth day, Saeran wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of water dripping. It's storming outside, the wind making the windows clatter against its rusty frames. Saeran wills himself awake and squints. The lack of moonlight makes it difficult for him to see, but he eventually spots pools of water in the cabin. "Shit," Saeran mumbles and kicks at the top bunk.

When Saeyoung continues to breathe loudly in his sleep, Saeran groans and climbs up. He finds Saeyoung's hair matted wildly against the pillow, Saeyoung still holding his phone to his chest. What an idiot. "Wake up." Saeran says.

Saeyoung makes an indistinguishable noise and flips around.

"Wake up!" Saeran shouts, causing Saeyoung to shoot up and nearly hit his head against the ceiling. "The roof is leaking."

Saeyoung squints at him in the almost-darkness. "What?"

"The cabin," Saeran says again, deliberately slow. "It's falling apart. The roof is leaking."

"Um. Should we go back to main camp?"

"Not in this weather." As if to reiterate Saeran's point, thunder cracks in the distance as rain continues pounding on the roof. "We gotta take care of the leak."

Together, they manage to light up candles to discover the entire floor soaked in water. Saeyoung runs around like a madman, chucking their stuff on top of dry drawers. Saeran finds two pails in the supply closet and positions them under wet spots, while Saeyoung tries to wipe up the water.

"That's not enough," Saeran says as he eyes the huge pool of water still in the center of the cabin. "We need to get this water out somehow."

Saeyoung's hair is a warm orange color under the lamp light, and Saeran can't help but note how much it looks like his own before he bleached it. "But how?" Saeyoung mutters, watching with wide eyes when Saeran grabs a broom and starts sweeping excess water out of the door. "Wait, that's danger-"

As if on cue, a strong gust of wind shakes the cabin and knocks the door closed. Saeran stumbles back, but Saeyoung catches him in time before Saeran's back collides with a sharp corner of the cabinets. "Be careful!" Saeyoung hisses, his body warm. Up close, Saeran realizes their facial structures are almost identical. 

"I'll help you!" Saeyoung grabs another broom, and they sweep most of the water through the crack on the door. Saeyoung uses a towel to close up the crack while humming a stupid cleaning commercial song, but Saeran is too thankful to be irritated. 

In the end, they manage to cover the entire floor with rags and towels as the roof continues to creak above them.

"I hope the cabin doesn't collapse," Saeyoung mumbles. He plops down on Saeran's bottom bunk and lifts a hand dramatically to his forehead. "I'm too young and handsome to die."

This makes Saeran snort. "Why? Do you have a sentimental lover waiting for you back home?"

"Nah, but my dad would be so sad. He always get moody and nostalgic when I'm not home." It's as if a dam has broken, because Saeyoung begins babbling nonstop. "He always takes artsy photos when I'm not around and frames pictures of me around the house. I don't really get his taste, but, whatever, he's famous."

Saeran stares at a spot on the cabin wall. "I see."

"Doesn't your mom miss you?"

"Probably." Saeran leans back. "She doesn't like to talk about her feelings."

Saeyoung has the audacity to nudge Saeran over, making room for himself on Saeran's bed. "Well! My dad loves having weird, existential conversations with me. I think it helps his art or something. He's willing to talk about everything, except maybe my mom."

At least they have that much in common, Saeran thinks. He makes a grunting sound in agreement.

Saeyoung's sigh is loud and fills the cabin. "The only thing I have of her is a half torn photo, and even that's fading in color. Sometimes I can't tell if her hair is blonde or brown, and-"

"Wait," Saeran cuts in. His brain whirls at the information, and Saeran turns to face Saeyoung. "What did you say?"

Saeyoung blinks. "My dad-"

"No," Saeran snaps as anxiety bubbles in the pitt of his stomach. "The thing about your mom- You have a torn photograph of her?"

"Yeah. It's ripped down the middle. I think she's on a boat or something?"

Saeran has never told anyone about this, but he has an almost identical photograph of his father. His mother has never been keen on keeping physical photos, and most of their vacation pictures are displayed on a digital photo frame at home. Still, Saeran had managed to steal a photo of his father from her collection. In the early days of his childhood, Saeran had kept it with him everywhere so he can consult it in case he ran into his father. Nowadays, he leaves it in his wallet as a habit. "Do you have it with you?"

This makes Saeyoung frown. "I guess? I think it's tucked in the cover of my calculator. Why? What's the problem?"

A few things begin to click into place, but Saeran doesn't want to give himself too much hope. "I also have a photo of my father that's torn down the middle."

"So?" Saeyoung squints at him.

Saeran takes a deep breath. He hasn't looked at the photograph in years, but the details are etched into the back of his mind. "I think he's also on a boat."

It takes a moment for Saeyoung's jaw to drop, but he catches up instantly and scrambles off the bed. After a minute, he procures something from his bag and nearly trips on his way back to Saeran. "Take your photo out!"

Gingerly, Saeran reaches for his wallet and does as he's told.

Saeyoung bites the bottom of his lips as he holds something behind his back. "Okay.. This is so fucking weird, but, on the count of three-"

"I get it."

"One.. Two... Three."

Saeran has never given much thought to the idea of fate. Still, there's something haunting about the way the edges of their photos line up perfectly. Saeyoung's half seems to have suffered some water damage, but it's intact enough for them to recognize the obvious truth.

"This is... The same picture," Saeyoung says dumbly. "What does this _mean_?"

"Are you stupid?" Saeran snaps.

Saeyoung throws his hand into the air. "I mean, obviously this means .... We're related? We have the same parents? But what does this _mean?_ Are we _twins_? But why do you have different hai-"

"I, um, I dye my hair." It occurs to Saeran that he may have been withholding some key facts. 

"WHAT?!" Saeyoung grabs Saeran's hand. Even in the dim light of the cabin, Saeran can see that Saeyoung’s fingers are tanner than his. "Why didn't you say so earlier?!"

"It didn't seem important,” Saeran admits quietly. 

Saeyoung gives him a grave look. "You have a lot to learn, little brother."

"Who says I'm the younger one?!!"

A bolt of thunder lands somewhere in there vicinity, shaking the entire cabin. It carries over whatever response Saeran had as wind continues to knock into the windows and carry through the cracks of the cabin. The draft is strong enough to blow out their remaining candle. That’s when Saeyoung says, “Shit, we’re gonna _dieee_.”

 

 

 

Dawn is just starting to peek at the edges of the cabin window when Saeyoung wakes up; he boots up his cell phone, plugging in his headphones so he can do his dailies in his rhythm games. He presumes that Saeran is still fast asleep in the bunk underneath him.

Saeyoung can hardly blame him: it’s not like Saeran was the one who had that weird dream that they were twins, too.

He keeps playing Love Live, eyes steeled in determination as he attempts (and fails) to full combo Soldier Game on Expert Mode. He keeps going until his LP runs out, and pulls his headphones down to his neck, setting the game down. Perfect timing: his bunkmate is beginning to stir, making soft noises as he stirs. Saeyoung can’t help but chuckle to himself. “Morning, Saeran-a—I mean, Saeran.”

“Morning,” Saeran whispers back, voice dry. He tosses several times in his bed before moving, grappling onto the ladder that separates his bunk from Saeyoung’s and climbing up to sit across him. Saeyoung notices that Saeran is wearing black pajama bottoms with a black T-shirt. What an edgelord, Saeyoung thinks as he continues to scroll through his phone.

Saeran narrows his eyes, sticking a hand out to block Saeyoung’s phone screen. “Don’t you think we need to talk more about this?”

“What are you on about?” Saeyoung hums. Well, this is an improvement from the earlier hostility. He pulls his phone out from under Saeran’s hand. Only two more Love Gems before he can scout for the Taisho Roman set. Will he full combo Soldier Game before he dies? Saeran sighs, snatching Saeyoung’s phone away from him and setting it on the bed.

“Did you miss the memo? You know, the part where we realized last night that we’re probably twins?”

Saeyoung’s eyes widen. “It—it wasn’t a dream?”

"Are you an idiot?" Saeran sighs before pulling his own phone from his pocket. “We need to find Wi-Fi somewhere. There must be something online that will tell us more…” 

Dazedly, Saeyoung nods. "Actually, I have my own Wi-Fi hotspot, hold on," he says, pulling out a 4G dongle from his computer's USB port. The roof is still dripping with water, and their belongings are scattered in high areas across the room. He feels a lurch in his chest.

This feels like some sort of cop out ending from a video game, where the main characters achieve true happiness only to be told that this is just a dream. Only it isn’t a dream, he might actually have a brother, and his mum… No, he doesn’t want to think about it. Not until it’s confirmed. His heart skips a beat as his dongle senses a Wi-Fi connection. The signal’s weak, but it’s there. Saeyoung boots up his laptop, and starts typing.

“What hospital were you born in?”

“Cheil General Hospital, in Seoul.”

Saeyoung knots his brows. That’s where he was born too. He pulls up the hospital’s webpage and scours through the database backend, watching lines of code flash across the computer scene. The hospital's current system is fairly secure, so that might be a tough nut to crack, but... "Aha!" Saeyoung mutters to himself. "We've hit gold here, Saerannie. Check this out."

Saeran leans in and a grin spreads across his features despite himself. " _Nice._ "

"I know right?" Saeyoung marvels. The hospital's current system might be super secure, but the same can't be said for records older than fifteen years old. In fact, it's easily susceptible to simple SQL injection attacks, and... "Bingo." Lines of code flash across the computer screen as he searches up his own name. Kim Saeyoung, June 11, sixteen years ago. “When’s your birthday?”

“June 11,” Saeran says without skipping a beat. How they hadn’t thought of asking each other this earlier, Saeyoung has no idea, but the eerie sensation continues to creep up throughout him as he pokes holes in the hospital’s website. All signs are pointing to a positive result, but he wants to be absolutely certain.

It takes Saeyoung three minutes and some backseat hacking from Saeran to locate the right information. Digital copies of his and Saeran’s birth certificates are just one click away. Saeyoung takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the cold, clammy feeling that has taken a grip of him. Saeyoung double-clicks on both files.

Kim Saeyoung, born to Choi Rika and Kim Jihyun at 1:14 pm on June the 11th. Kim Saeran, also born to the same parents seventeen minutes later.

Saeyoung stares at his screen wordlessly, unsure how to react to all this information. Saeran is the first to break the silence.

“So I have to call you _hyung_ now?”

“Yeah,” Saeyoung mutters, voice devoid of its usual teasing lilt. For some reason, the idea of having a little brother to boss around doesn’t ring louder than the haunting chant of _Your mother isn’t dead._ His father had lied to him, which shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise, and yet… Saeyoung squeezes his eyes shut, trying to blink back tears.

His mother is alive. He has a brother. His father remembers and humors all his weird hobbies, never misses his birthdays, and goes to each of Saeyoung's parent-teacher conferences despite how busy he is, and yet his father failed to share this crucial information. Saeyoung slowly closes his laptop shut. He takes a deep breath, trying to squeeze out a smile for Saeran.

Saeran isn’t taking any of it. “Don’t try. You’re shaking,” he says. “Are you okay?”

Saeyoung nods. “Yeah, I’m totally fine! Just a bit surprised, that’s all. All of a sudden I have a younger brother—a- and a mum...” His voice trails off. It must be dusty in here, because there’s something in his eye. Saeyoung blinks a few times, trying to force it back, and lifts a hand to rub it when that doesn’t work. It’s wet and clammy, and he sniffs a little.

Saeran raises an eyebrow. “Are you crying?”

“No I’m not! Just something in my eye, that’s all. Just,” Saeyoung blubbers, "Let me be alone for a while, Saeran-ah, this is a really bad allergy called FeelingsWillKillYouSyndrome, you might catch it too, since we're _twins_." 

Saeran frowns. “You have a brother now, and your mother isn’t dead. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“I… I guess.” Crap, he really is crying. Saeyoung lifts a hand to rub his eye, and sniffles a little. Saeran is right; this really shouldn’t be something to cry over, but there's a stinging feeling in his chest and a stabbing sensation through his gut that he can't ignore. “I just don’t like being lied to.”

Saeran nudges Saeyoung a little with his knee. Up close, Saeran is warm, and soft, and feels like family-- he seems so real when everything else feels fake to Saeyoung. “Neither do I. Mom told me that my father left a long time ago and that he’s no longer in the picture. She never said anything about you.”

“They probably had their reasons.” Still, the injustice of being lied to doesn’t sit right with Saeyoung, and the initial shock has begun to give way to bubbling anger. He covers his face with his hands and groans. “How am I supposed to be a cool big brother if you’ve already seen me like this?”

“Nothing about you is cool. You gave up any rights to that the day you started playing that stupid phone game all the time.” Saeran rolls his eyes. 

Saeyoung manages to laugh. “H- hey! Are you insulting Honoka Kousaka, the light of my life?”

“Saeyoung—- _hyung_ , Honoka isn’t real. Besides, there are plenty of other things about you that aren’t cool. You spent your summer in computer camp. You walk around wearing shirts with that stupid frog on them, Dat Boi or something—”

“His name is _Pepe_.”

“And you wear those stupid glasses. I wouldn’t be caught dead walking out of the house like that.”

Saeyoung folds his arms, scoffing with mock annoyance. “My glasses are adorable. Just like the rest of me!”

“And you’re full of incessant self-praise. If I had ten won for every time you called yourself cute, I’d be able to pay for my mother’s retirement.”

“You mean our mother’s retirement?”

“Yeah.”

They fall into silence once more. Saeyoung sighs, flopping down onto his bed and pulling up another game. He absentmindedly taps the screen as the monster on his phone gets bigger and bigger, tearing down buildings and eating every single human in sight. Just then, a giant meteor appears out of nowhere and crushes the monster, killing him. The words “Game Over” flash across his screen. Saeyoung cringes and slams his phone hard against the mattress of his bed. “There’s gotta be something we can do about this, right?”

Saeran frowns. “What, like dressing up as each other and going home to the other parent?”

Saeyoung sits up straight as his mind begins to whirl. 

“Wait, that’s a fantastic idea.” 

There are obvious concerns: the two of them could get caught, he’d be lying to his dad, they’re nothing alike, what if Uncle Jumin's cat likes Saeran more, etc. Saeyoung pushes those thoughts aside. The switch needs to be good, _really_ good. As for lying to his dad, well, it’s not like he’s been super honest with Saeyoung either. “D- does Mom talk about Dad much?”

“Not really,” says Saeran. He shifts from side to side on the bed. “She says he’s a good man, but… I always wanted to meet him.”

Saeyoung claps his hands together. “This is perfect! You want to meet Dad. I want to meet Mom. We can pretend to be each other, and go back with each other’s parent. When the holidays are over we can tell them the truth and they’ll have to meet up to switch us back!” He grabs Saeran by the shoulders. “You’re a genius. Well of course you are, you’re related to me.”

Saeran’s lips part for a moment and his eyes go wide, and Saeyoung feels his heart sink. He begins to wrack his brain for the right words, anything that will convince Saeran! But the look of doubt on Saeran’s face quickly gives way to a small smile, and Saeran nods in agreement.

“Let’s do it.” 

 

 

 

The first step to aiding their plan is to get out of the isolation cabin. It’s not so hard to feign innocence in front of the counselors when they’re now practically glued at the hip. Surprisingly, no one questions their newfound attachment to each other, and Saeran wonders what else could have happened in that isolation cabin in the past to normalize their behavior. Once they return to camp, their plans are put into motion. 

The switch is ingenious in theory. In practicality, it raises many concerns.

Their differing eye colors is the biggest giveaway, but that's easily solved with colored contacts. Saeran does not look forward to wearing Saeyoung's ridiculous glasses, but he understands that sacrifices must be made for the greater good.

The hair poses another problem. They manage to bribe one of the day-camp students to go on a hair dye run of them, despite Saeyoung's protests of looking like a visual kei reject. "Don't be ridiculous," Saeran says while applying bleach to Saeyoung's hair over the sink. Saeyoung's hair is still soft and undamaged, unlike his own. "Mom will know immediately something is wrong if I show up with red hair."

"Embrace your natural beauty," Saeyoung sing-songs, then yelps when bleach strays too close to his eye. In the end, after two bottles of developer and some creative license with the dip dye, Saeyoung makes a passable Saeran at first glance. If only he can school his expressions into something less ridiculous.

"You look good with red hair," Saeyoung says after Saeran emerges from the shower with a shade close to his natural hair color. It's not an exact match, but he can always make an excuse about the sun.

Saeran towels absently at his head and turns to hide his smile. "You're just praising yourself."

The last physical challenge they need to overcome is the piercing. Saeran admits he might've gotten too creative with this, and he still remembers the lecture he'd gotten after coming home one day with pierced ears.

"I changed my mind, hahaha..." Saeyoung says weakly while Saeran hovers the needle over a lighter. "This is a bad idea. Nope, sir. Let's not tempt fate and-"

Saeran flicks the lighter off and watches hot heat rise from the needle. "Are you scared, _hyung_."

"Who?! ME?!" Saeyoung pouts, but his eyes doesn't leave the needle. "N- nope! Not afraid at all. But here’s an idea! We could fake piercings, you could say they closed up at camp--"

"It won't hurt," Saeran says for the nth time. This brings some peace to Saeyoung, who lies down again on the bed. Saeran scoots under he's positioned next to his brother, the bottle of rubbing alcohol still open after being applied relentlessly to Saeyoung's earlobe. He touches the pen dot on Saeyoung's ear and watches Saeyoung's chest rise and fall. 

Saeran smirks. "Much," he adds all-too-casually, before pushing the needle through Saeyoung's earlobe. 

His brother's screams can be heard echoing through the entire camp. 

Yet, their plan must be working. Counselors Jang and Im burst through the doors a minute later, wide-eyed and panicked, and the first question on their lips is "Why is Choi Saeran bleeding?"

At nights, they sneak back to the stream near the cabin and stargaze in a clearing in the woods. Saeyoung babbles on about his loud best friend Zen and their snarky but perceptive cohort Vanderwood. In turn, Saeran tells him about Yoosung’s gullibleness and MC’s endearing humor. It’s easy for Saeran to imagine his brother growing up in Seoul, across the country and worlds away from Saeran’s quiet life in Busan. 

“What are you thinking about?” Saeyoung asks, when Saeran finishes explaining their mother’s event planning business and her strict but kind assistant Jaehee. The night air is humid, and Saeran has long since discarded Saeyoung’s long black hoodie. 

Saeran plucks at a blade of grass near him. “Can we really make this work?”

In response, Saeyoung scoots over until their sides are pressed together. The grin he shoots Saeran is all-teeth, and Saeran wonders if this is what he’d look like if he was less apathetic. “Of course! They say twins are two halves of one whole, you know!” 

“I don’t know about that,” Saeran replies quietly. “The two of us would make a very disjointed whole person.”

“Have faith, Saerannie!” 

Having faith is easier said than done, for their next step in completing the switch is to exchange all personal effects. Having very similar body builds makes the wardrobe exchange easy, but Saeran gets a headache the first time he tries to find a wallet out of Saeyoung’s backpack. Not to mention the insane amount of apps on his phone.

“What in the world is Love Live?” Saeran asks when he’s done clearing Saeyoung’s internet history. A precursory glance at Saeyoung’s phone has made it obvious that all of his passwords are just some variations of cats. 

Saeyoung’s face does some impressive acrobatics before settling on an expression of outrage. “What’s Love Li-YOU’RE MISSING OUT ON SO MUCH, SAERANNIE!!!” This soon devolves into a mutual roasting of each other’s personal tastes until Saeyoung tries to pull Saeran into a headlock. 

Still, by the end of summer, their switch was complete. Everyone at camp had fallen for their new identities, and Saeran desperately hopes that the rest of summer will be as equally as easy.

 

 

 

The first stabs of panic bubble through Saeyoung as he watches his father greet Saeran at the front of the camp gates. Saeyoung trains his gaze onto Saeran’s laptop and attempts to shrink into a corner, trying not to look up as he notices his father pull Saeran into a tight hug. It’ll be over if their eyes meet-- Saeyoung knows it. Still, he can’t help but feel a pang of sadness as he watches the two of them leave. He keeps his head low and his mouth shut, and keeps working on his code. 

The bullet train ride back to Saeran’s home in Busan is the longest he’s ever taken. Saeyoung tries not to think too much about the fact that he’s about to see a mother he didn’t even know was alive, and attempts to focus his attention on surfing the web on Saeran’s phone. Saeyoung drums his fingers against the armrest nervously, wishing there was someone he could chat up and text. Inserting himself into someone else’s life is a lot lonelier than he’d expected it to be, and a lot more nerve-wracking. He would be the world’s worst spy.

His phone vibrates, and Saeyoung almost jumps out of his seat with panic. Oh boy, if this is their mum or one of Saeran’s friends or someone else how is he supposed to reply? Wait, no. It’s just a text from Saeran.

 **Unknown** : I’m already running out of things to say to Dad.  
**Unknown** : He’s asking why I’m so quiet.  
**Unknown** : What do you even TALK about half the time?  
**707** : Oh  
**707** : Well  
**707** : /(@ﾟﾍﾟ@)  
**707** : Just blabber on about computer theories!! ⌒°(❛ᴗ❛)°⌒  
**707** : Dad won’t understand any of it.  
**707** : Sometimes I do that to him when I’m trying to distract him.  
**707** : He tunes out and pretends he gets it and it’s pretty funny, you can start saying random things that make no sense and he’ll nod along anyway!! ヽ(〃･ω･)ﾉ  
**707** : Once I asked him if I could have a room with twenty cats and he agreed~  
**Unknown** : Incredible.

Saeyoung sets the phone down, taking a deep breath. _Okay, Saeyoung. Calm down. You can do this._ Who would have thought that he’d be the type to have performance anxiety? Still, he can’t help but over think through the rest of his journey back, occasionally sending Saeran texts to find out how he’s doing on the other side. Finally, he gives up and downloads Love Live School Idol Festival on Saeran’s phone, putting in his transfer code so he’s back on his old account. A final tether to his previous identity.

The train comes to a screeching halt at Busan station hours later, and the butterflies in Saeyoung’s stomach return with a vengeance. He steps off the train nervously, squinting around for signs of his mother—the colored contacts he’s wearing don’t do a great job of correcting his astigmatism, just one of many sacrifices he’s had to make for the greater good. He shuffles his way to the end of the platform, and bile starts to creep up at the back of his throat. Maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe this was a bad idea—

“Saeran-ah!”

Saeyoung whirls around to see a petite, blonde woman in a flowing dress. She rushes up to him and Saeyoung’s eyes widen—this is it, this is Choi Rika, this is his mother— and she's beautiful. There are wrinkles on her forehead and circles under her eyes, but as she rushes up towards him he cannot help but feel like she walks on clouds and bathes in light. Saeyoung gulps, desperately searching for the words to say. _What would Saeran do, what would Saeran do!_

Before he can say anything, his mother wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug-- an embrace that feels like _home_. “Saeran-ah, how was the train ride home?”

Saeyoung can’t help but smile, and he pulls his mother in closer. In that moment, he can’t help but feel like everything is going to be all right.

“I missed you so much, Mom.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saeyoung develops a crush, Saeran discovers Love Live, and they both struggle to hide their true identities from their parents. Meanwhile, Saeran uncovers a devastating blow to their plan to get their parents back together in the form of one Glam Choi.

Although Saeran perfected the art of feigning sleep at a young age, he never thought he would put it into practice the first time he meets his father. Yet, after the initial daunting feelings faded, Saeran had run out of words. His father, for the most part, seemed content with the comfortable silence and did not jostle Saeran until they were parked in the garage of a gated high rise building in Gangnam. 

“You’re rarely this tired,” V comments in the elevator as they slowly ascend to the 16th floor. 

Saeran shoves his hands into the pockets of Saeyoung’s hoodie. “It’s been a long summer.” He tries to summon some of his brother’s brashness. “But! It’s great to be home!” 

V gives him a strange look just as the elevator pings. He takes the suitcase and wheels it to the door at the end of the hallway before typing in the passcode. “Welcome home.”

Saeran does the first thing imaginable and throws his body onto the couch. This must be in character, because V simply removes his shoes and disappears into the kitchen area. While V’s gone, Saeran takes a moment to observe in the living room. Canvas prints cover the walls. Every fixture in the room, from the sleek bookshelves to the fancy-looking coffee table, is lined with framed photos of a similar face. Saeran is looking at a picture of young Saeyoung hugging a white cat when his father returns with a bottle of soda.

“Here is the limited edition Dr. Pepper vanilla float you begged me to buy,” V says with a smile. “I’m surprised you didn’t have some delivered to camp.”

Saeran twists open the bottle and curses Saeyoung’s sweet tooth. “The counselors were really strict.”

“I hope you had fun.”

“It was-” Saeran pauses. “Eye opening.” It’s not a lie. 

V looks surprised at this. Saeran almost expects him to ask, “who are you and what have you done with my son,” but V simply sighs instead. “I’d love to hear more about it, but I have a conference call in thirty minutes and need to prepare. I’m flying out to Thailand for a project next week, so remember to list down food you want Chef RamG to prepare. You know what to do, right?”

“Yes,” Saeran lies. He definitely does _not_ know what to do. 

“Great. Don’t forget we’re going to Uncle Jumin’s for dinner. Your room is still the way you left it. I told the housekeeper not to touch it.” He’s gone before Saeran can ask anything, the door to what Saeran assumes to be his office closing with a quiet thud. 

Saeran waits a beat before saying, “What the fuck.” Saeyoung has told him enough for Saeran to know who Uncle Jumin is, but the rest baffles him. Housekeeper? Chef? What kind of bougie place did he walk into? Saeran grabs the suitcase and starts wheeling it through the corridors, looking for Saeyoung’s room. Instead, he finds two bathrooms, a guest room, his father’s bedroom, and a home theater. The room at the very end of the hallway is the most problematic.

“What the fuck,” Saeran says, for the nth time, when he throws open the door to find absolute chaos. He parses the details in the following order:

\- The walls are covered in ugly, checkered wallpaper  
\- Clothes are scattered around the floor and across every surface  
\- A life-sized cardboard cut out of Honoka leans against the closet, next to three industrial sized boxes of honey buddha chips  
\- Is that a red _car bed_? 

 

 **Unknown** : You’re dead to me  
**707** : ゞ◎Д◎ヾ  
**707** : WHAT  
**707** : WHY  
**Unknown** : You know why

 

“Uncle Jumin’s place” turns out to be the penthouse that takes up the entire top floor of their luxury apartment complex. 

“Uncle Jumin” turns out to be none other than Han Jumin, CEO of C&R Inc. and one of the richest men in South Korea. Saeran knows this much, not because his brother has kindly provided the necessary information, but because MC once wrote a report on him and made Saeran format the entire work cited section. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t take the liberty of breaking in again,” Jumin says upon opening the door. He’s clad in a three-piece suit that’s completely overkill for a family dinner on a Sunday night. 

Saeran’s mind whirls. Does Saeyoung often break into this place? “Eh,” he says before spotting a familiar-looking cat on the couch. The cat meets his eye and, after a beat, stretches her body out across the cushions. 

“Do _not_ terrorize Elizabeth III again,” Jumin says while Saeran’s father laughs. “She had such a peaceful summer without you.”

As if engaging Elizabeth in a staring contest, Saeran moves closer to the couch until he can put one hand on her soft, purring body. Bright blue eyes blink lazily up at him as Elizabeth sniffs his hand. After a moment, she gives his thumb a tentative lick. Saeran gulps. 

“Strange,” Jumin says flatly. “She’s usually hiding from you by this point.”

“Maybe she missed him,” V suggests with humor in his voice.

Saeran tunes out their conversation and focuses on scratching behind Elizabeth’s ear. When she tilts her head into his palm, Saeran feels some untouched, dark depth of his heart melt. This is dangerous. Saeyoung should have warned him. 

“Come eat,” Jumin’s voice cuts through Saeran’s crisis. “My nutritionist and chef revamped the menu just for your return.”

Any complaints Saeran have about rich assholes are gone the moment he sees the food spread across the dining room table. He idly takes a seat and frowns. Are they expected to eat all of this?

“You’ve been acting extremely strange,” Jumin says as he drinks what appears to be red wine in a champagne flute. “Is there something on your mind?”

“Just tired,” Saeran mumbles and tries to muster enthusiasm for the 15 course meal in front of him. He shouldn’t have dug into Saeyoung’s honey buddha chip stash earlier.

Thankfully, Jumin and V spends most of dinner talking business. Saeran gives up halfway through and moves Elizabeth into the dining room so she can lie on his lap. This must have been something Saeyoung would do as well, because the adults barely bat an eyelash. Saeran is almost enjoying the muted, comfortable chatter when the doorbell sounds.

“Strange. I’m not expecting anyone.” Regardless, Jumin slowly rises and goes to answer it. He returns with a flashy woman in tow, Jumin’s originally relaxed expression now schooled into something blank. 

V speaks up first, surprise flickering across his face. “Glam! What are you doing here?”

Who the fuck is Glam? Saeran idly remembers Saeyoung listing the string of women their father has casually dated. He frowns upon recalling Saeyoung’s dismissive comment about the latest girlfriend. She sounded like someone he didn't particularly care for..

In person, Glam Choi seems highly tacky with her over-large jewelry and expensive-looking clothes. Saeran is dismayed when Glam plants a kiss on V’s cheeks. Her hand lands on V’s arm, and Saeran’s eyes immediately zooms in on the big, shiny rock on her finger.

“I went to surprise you, but you weren’t home, so I decided to swing by Jumin’s place just to check. Ah, I see you’re back, Saeyoung-ah.” Glam doesn’t sound particularly happy about “Saeyoung” being back. Still, her face is smug as she thrusts the ring in front of Saeran’s face. “Surprise!”

V pales visibly. “Ah, I haven’t told him yet.”

“You got engaged?” Saeran hisses in disbelief. This is not good. This is the opposite of good. 

Glam smiles, much like a cat who got the cream. “Aren’t you happy for us, Saeyoung-ah?” 

“I need to use the bathroom,” Saeran says instead and shoots out of his seat. He vaguely hears V’s comment of, ”That’s about what I expected,” before slamming the bathroom door shut.

 **Unknown** : Problem  
**Unknown** : A big problem  
**707** : Yo!!!  
**707** : WHATS  
**707** : UP  
**707** : ⌒°(❛ᴗ❛)°⌒  
**Unknown** : They got engaged  
**707** : Who?  
**707** : Yoona and Lee Seunggi?  
**707** : Desktop-sshi and Tablet-sshi?  
**707** : Elly and Me?  
**707** : ໒( ♥ ◡ ♥ )७  
**Unknown** : No  
**Unknown** : Dad and Glam  
**707** : !!!  
**707** : WHAT  
**707** : THE  
**707** : FUCK  
**Unknown** : This is problematic  
**707** : SHE’S PROBLEMATIC 

 

Get to work, get to work, get to work! 

Saeyoung frowns, burying his face in his hands. He'd spent the last few hours wracking his brain for ways that he could get rid of Gremlin Choi, pacing up and down Saeran's room, and was now sitting in a pile of clothes thinking of alternate solutions. 

Saeran's living quarters hadn't been the most conducive environment for problem-solving. Once upon a time, it was mostly black and white, with a few shelves of books and a neatly-kept bed. Even the weird emo clothes in Saeran's closet were neatly folded and arranged. The only sign that this room was occupied by a real, living human being was the visual kei posters on the white wall. 

Saeyoung has taken it upon himself to do some redecorating since his arrival in Busan. He hears the creaking open of his door and sees Rika's head peek into the room. 

Well, he isn't sure if his mother likes his handiwork. 

Rika’s brows furrow as she surveys Saeran's room. Clothes are strewn across the floor and over Saeran's bed, and the garbage can in the corner is overflowing with PHD Pepper cans. The desk has papers with bits of code scattered over it, and Saeyoung has made a little nest out of hoodies beside it, which he is currently sitting in, humming to the tune as he plays Love Live. 

Rika squints at the posters behind Saeran's bed, and Saeyoung chuckles to himself. He isn't quite sure if the person in the pictures is a man or a woman, but he has quite certainly improved their appearance by giving them Sharpie spectacles and a detailed, curly moustache. Mother clicks her tongue, whipping around to face him. 

"Saeran-ah, what is the meaning of this?" 

He looks up at his mother with a sheepish grin. A little part of Saeyoung wants to exclaim, "THIS IS MY FUCKHOUSE NOW MUM, DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO." An even bigger part of him, however, has the sneaking suspicion that this might not be a good idea—that he should keep his head down and his mouth shut for the moment and observe his mother's reaction. 

Saeyoung has watched his fair share of anime, at least enough that he considers himself to be some sort of connoisseur. This included a fair share of shoujo, much of which he had deemed just slightly overdramatic. There were no blushing heroines in real life, and love confessions did not always come with cherry blossoms falling in the wind. Still, he can't help but feel a lurching feeling in his chest as his mother glances around the room, eyes narrowing in annoyance as she surveys the mess. "When was the last time you tidied up? This is very much unlike you."

Saeyoung gulps. Oh boy, this isn't good. For once in his life he's completely lost for words to say—his mother's voice is calm and her words are measured, but he can tell that she's absolutely _furious_. "Uh," he begins. "I've just been really tired since coming back from camp, that's all, hahaha..." He scratches the back of his head. Come to think of it, he's never used a vacuum cleaner, folded a shirt, or taken out the trash in his life.

Welp, he's just going to have to consult Google- _ssaem_ for the answers, since it would be mighty suspicious if he asked his mother how to do it. Rika raises a brow at his answer, golden eyes piercingly cold as she bores into him with a stare. This must be where Saeran gets his death glare from, except this is ten times worse. An impending sense of doom crawls up his neck as her lips part to speak. 

"I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed." 

There it is. The worst line a parent could ever deliver. Suddenly, Saeyoung understands how heartbroken characters in cartoons feel when metaphorical arrows pierce through their hearts: a dizzying feeling, a gaping wound in his chest, the feeling of everything he ever knew crumbling apart. He scrambles to his feet, muttering one of the few sincere apologies he's ever spoken in his life. 

"I—I'm so sorry, Mom! I promise I'll have this all cleaned up by tomorrow." 

Rika's smile is saccharine, and Saeyoung knows that he'll have his head on a platter if he doesn't make good on his promise. She mutters, "Good," before waltzing out of the room, leaving a puzzled Saeyoung alone, afraid, and wishing he had the means to build a cleaning robot so he didn't have to do it by himself. 

 

 

 

Saeran doesn’t sleep well the first few nights in his new home. The car bed is not firm enough and Saeran keeps tripping over random clothes on the floor. Eventually, he gives up and begins sleeping in the guest room. This is apparently not uncommon, because his dad doesn’t even bring it up. They haven’t spoken much since the dinner with Glam and Saeran is thankful that his father doesn’t pry. Saeran needs time to strategize, deliberate, and reorganize his plan of attack. 

His father flies out to Thailand for his job. Saeran is left to his own devices, save for the quiet housekeeper who visits once a week and Chef RamG. Saeran had been shocked upon opening the door to find the man looming in the hallway with a bag of groceries. 

Chef RamG stares. “What? Are you not gonna invite me in?” 

Saeran can’t believe that the man everyone briefly alluded to as a family friend turned out to be the famous host of MISTER CHEF. “Eh,” he says dumbly, and steps aside. 

“This fridge is so barren! Does anyone even live here?!” Chef RamG demands while rampaging through the kitchen. Regardless, he begins restocking the pantry with non perishables while turning on every stove available. 

“Can I help?” Saeran asks while Chef RamG pulls out an assortment of pots and pans from the cabinets that Saeran didn’t even know existed.

Chef RamG looks at Saeran like he’s crazy. Saeran suddenly recalls Saeyoung’s lack of cooking prowess and the time he burnt ramen at camp. "Get up on your feet, whippersnapper! Get yourself out of the kitchen before you make a mess. You're moving so slow, my grandma would have finished a marathon faster than you! AND SHE'S DEAD."

Saeran blinks. “That makes no sense.”

"The faster you get out, the faster I can make your meals for the week, the faster I stop yelling in your face! Shannon's waiting for me at home. I've got a wife and dogs to feed UNLIKE YOU."

Saeran frowns. “The pans are still heating up. I’m not really impairing your cooking time.”

Chef RamG scoffs, but there are trances of fondness on his face as he grabs something from the knife rack. “You’re cutting into my prep time! You're dumber than my dog Roxy—and she failed her blood test!"

“How do you fail a blood tes-”

“Exactly!” Chef Ram hollers. “YOU CAN’T! At least Roxy's kind of cute and serves a useful purpose. What about you?!”

Saeran pauses. What would Saeyoung say?????

Chef RamG squints at him.

“Do you have photos of Roxy?” Saeran tries. His brother loves dogs, right? RIGHT??? 

“What? You didn’t get enough at her birthday party?” Chef RamG half demands, half laughs. 

What kind of rich assholes throw birthday parties for their dogs? Still, Saeran’s sense of self preservation wins out and he quietly shuffles out of the kitchen to play Love Live on Saeyoung’s phone. When he runs out of LP, Saeran opens up Pokemon Shuffle, then Farmville, then one of Saeyoung’s ridiculous otome games. Why does he even have this thing? 

Chef RamG appears when Saeran begins to zone out. “Up! Come taste my newest creation!” He tugs Saeran off the couch and into the kitchen, which now resembles a fancy buffet. Chef RamG whacks Saeran on the back. “Now eat up! I’ll be offended if you eat less than three bowls of my beef stew!”

Saeran gulps.

Four bowls of food and a few antacids later, Chef RamG bids Saeran goodbye with very specific instructions on how to freeze and reheat the other dishes. Saeran considers sending a stream of angry messages to Saeyoung, but his food coma makes it difficult for him to stay angry. Instead, he makes vague grumbling noises and silently curses his brother. 

It seems to Saeran that Chef RamG’s presence has always been a staple in Saeyoung’s life, so he reluctantly accepts it along with the other eccentricities that came with his brother’s world. That doesn’t make him less alarmed upon waking up the next day to find _another_ stranger in the kitchen.

“You’re up early!” a boy with long, silver hair says. He takes Saeran’s silence for grogginess and wraps an arm around Saeran. “Babe, are you stunned in the face of my beauty?”

Saeran squints. Who else would know the passcode for this place? “Zen?”

“That’s me!” Zen has the audacity to wink. “I brought fish-shaped bread for breakfast—I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were back.”

“It’s only been two days.” Saeran suppresses a yawn and picks a slice of bread out of the paper bag. He grunts when Zen leans over him and puts his entire weight on Saeran’s back. “Did you miss me that much?”

Zen pouts. “Of course! My Hyung has been unbearable lately and Vanderwood is being mean to me.”

“Vanderwood’s always mean.” This much, Saeran knows. He takes a bite out of the bread and pushes Zen off. When Zen joins him at the counter, Saeran frowns. 

“Why are you so grumpy today?” Zen leans over until their foreheads touch. “Are you sick? You don’t feel that warm.”

Saeran swallows his bread wrong and goes into a coughing fit. He yelps lamely when Zen returns with a bottle of water (where did he even find that? All Saeran could find was Ph.D Pepper). “Are you _okay_?”

“Fine!” Saeran huffs out between gulps of water. “Just annoyed. Dad and Glam got engaged.” This seems to be distraction enough, because it sends Zen into a gasp. The melodrama is appreciated, because even Saeran is trying to grasp how he and Saeyoung’s plan derailed so rapidly. 

Upon deciding that Saeran is no longer in danger of choking to death, Zen wraps his arms around Saeran’s waist and sets his head on Saeran’s shoulder. “What are you going to do? I know you don’t get along with that woman.”

“Um,” Saeran says. He’s aware that Zen is his brother’s best friend, but is all this touching necessary?

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t think with you so close to my damn face,” Saeran grumbles.

Zen blinks. “Why are you being so shy?” 

“I’m beginning to value personal space,” Saeran says. 

“Ha!” Zen winks _again_ , and Saeran resists the urge to pull on Zen’s ponytail. “Say that to our dicks!”

Saeran stares as he tries to process the joke. “What?”

Zen tilts his head and frowns. “Cause, you know? It’s not like we haven’t touched dicks before.”

 _ABORT, ABORT,_ screams Saeran’s brain as all the self-preservation alarms in his head simultaneously go off. “I—”

“You…” Zen trails off, tilting his head. 

Saeran knows this will make or break his facade, so he lets his face do something truly atrocious and _beams_. “I didn’t know you were so sentimental!” To add fuel on the fire burning away his soul, Saeran puts his hands together into a heart and blows Zen an air kiss. This makes Zen laugh and the tension in the air dissipates immediately. 

“So tell me about camp?” Zen asks, throwing himself on the couch and patting the spot next to him.

This, Saeran can do.

 

 

 

At least church on Sunday mornings was a commonality between his and Saeran's schedule. Saeyoung arrives at church with Rika bright-eyed and bushy-tailed by 7:07 am, ready to bathe in the glory of the Lord. He shuffles behind Rika as she leads him down the pews, trying to keep his mouth shut and his head down. 

_Be like Saeran. Act like Saeran._

He'd already messed up with the room thing, so maybe he can make it up with the church thing. Saeyoung continues trailing after his mother, nodding and grunting "hi" when she tells him to greet the random aunties and uncles. At least it's in-character for Saeran to seem grouchy and dazed in the early hours of the morning; his mother doesn't seem to notice anything strange going on with him this time around. They are just finished greeting a group of old ladies when Rika taps him on the shoulder. 

"Saeran-ah, we just walked past your friends. Aren't you going to go and sit with them?" 

"Ah, uh—still sleepy, sorry," Saeyoung mutters. Crap, now he's got to figure out who Saeran's friends are from the photos and descriptions. There's a blonde boy with hair clips who they are somehow related to, and a friendly, goofy, fun-loving girl—

Saeyoung's thought is halted by the sight of the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. 

Saeran had described MC as being of average height, with long brown hair. He'd somehow failed to mention that MC's chocolate-colored locks are softer and more luscious than any cosplay wig he'd ever seen, or that she has long, curly lashes that could rival a K-Pop star. Saeyoung can barely stop himself from gaping as she turns around to face him, bathing in a halo of shining glory as the stained-glass window casts a white light upon her—wait, no, the halo part is probably because these contacts aren't strong enough for him, but still. 

She was already pretty in photos, but in real life, she's breathtakingly gorgeous. Saeyoung feels a blush creep onto his cheeks, and he makes a mental note to kick Saeran for not warning him about her wondrous beauty. He quickly scrambles over to sit next to her, heart thumping wildly and mouth dry. MC smiles at him and in that moment, he's never been more sure that God is truly real. 

"Saeran! I haven't seen you in a long time. Let's get ice cream after this with Yoosung and you can tell me all about camp, okay?"

He can hear the angels singing in the distance and feel himself basking in the love of Jesus Christ. Saeyoung nods, trying to ignore the flushing sensation creeping up on his cheeks and his breath hitching in his throat as her fingers brush lightly against his. It takes a sharp reminder to himself that this is Saeran's best friend for him to resist the urge to take her hand.

 

 **707** : HELP  
**707** : H  
**707** : E  
**707** : L  
**707** : P  
**707** : I!!!  
**707** : HAVE!!!  
**707** : AN!!!  
**707** : EMERGENCY!!!  
**707** : I HAVE TO CALL 999  
**707** : MY HEART IS ABOUT TO STOP!!!!!!  
**707** : PAGING S  
**707** : A  
**707** : E  
**707** : R  
**Unknown** : Funny you called  
**Unknown** : I have a question for you too  
**Unknown** : You never told me you were gay?  
**707** : UHHH  
**707** : Bi, actually! I'm an equal opportunity boyfriend :D  
**707** : Someone as beautiful, perfect and humble as me needs to be available to everyone.  
**Unknown** : You never told me you dated ZEN???  
**707** : ......  
**707** : ...........  
**707** : ...............  
**707** : SURPRISE???????  
**Unknown** : I can't believe you  
**707** : Speaking of that, I have a related crisis!!!  
**707** : I need help!!!!!!  
**707** : You never told me that MC was so cute!!!!!!!  
**Unknown** : SAEYOUNG.  
**Unknown** : So... So you like boys?  
**707** : Yes.  
**707** : And girls :D  
**Unknown** : So you've done stuff before... With Zen  
**707** : Yup!  
**707** : That's what happens when you find someone who's cute who also thinks you're kind of cute!  
**707** : First comes kissing  
**707** : Then comes touching  
**707** : Then comes—  
**Unknown** : ...  
**Unknown** : Enough.  
**707** : ... Are you freaked out?  
**Unknown** : No  
**Unknown** : Just surprised  
**Unknown** : I'm not interested in romance, so I never thought about that sort of thing  
**Unknown** : But I guess it makes sense.  
**707** : ???  
**Unknown** : You would be indiscriminately flirty. I wouldn't be surprised if you tried to chat up a doorknob.  
**707** : YOU ARE IGNORING THE VERY REAL PROBLEM HERE!!!!!  
**Unknown** : howcouldthishappentome.mp3

 

V returns a few days later with souvenirs. Saeran digs absently through bags of thai silk and undeveloped film before pilfering a jar of coconut jam. While his father unpacks in the living room, Saeran eats the jam by the spoonful and idly listens to the story of V’s photography expedition. 

“Saeyoung-ah?” V asks as Saeran begins to zoom out. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine. Dandy. Perfect!” Saeran spins around on the stool. It’s half staged and half sugar induced. 

V moves to the kitchen counter and sets a hand on Saeran’s shoulder. “We didn’t have a chance to talk properly before I left. I’m here if you want to talk about Glam.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Saeran tries to grin but fails. “Poor marriage decisions aren’t new to you, right?”

This brings a frown to V’s face. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing!” Saeran says. “I just don’t like her, that’s all.” Back home, his mother’s default response to such a childish remark would be along the lines of: _there are things I don’t like either, but life isn’t fair._ Saeran is surprised when V pulls him into a half hug instead.

“I know things have been strange for you,” V says softly. “I shouldn’t have dropped the bomb after you were at camp for so long. I know Glam isn’t the most easy-going person, but she has a lot of good qualities. I’d like both of you to get to know each other more, if it’s possible.”

Saeran is used to his mother’s guilt-tripping techniques, but he’s not accustomed to such open and honest requests from a parental figure. In his hesitation, Saeran makes a vague sound in agreement.

V smiles. “Thank you. Is it alright with you if I invite her over to dinner? We can order delivery from your favorite place.”

“Fine,” Saeran grunts, and knows he’ll regret it later.

He’s right, of course, when Glam shows up twenty minutes late to dinner looking like she’s dressed for a nightclub. Saeran glares at her over his plate of kimchi pancakes and tires to tune out the discussion between her and his father. Saeran knows he’s never been a friendly person, but he’s had enough social contact to know there’s something intrinsically suspicious about this woman. 

Unfortunately, V is interrupted by a call and goes into his office to answer it. This leaves Saeran and Glam staring at each other over the dining room table.

“How was your little staycation in Jihyun’s absence?” Glam asks while examining her nails.

“Fine,” Saeran grumbles. “I visited Uncle Jumin and slept.” 

“Jumin should date more. I have friends I can introduce him to.”

Saeran wants to laugh. “Why would he date your friends? He can barely tolerate _you_.” The words are already out of his mouth before Saeran can stop himself. He’s aware that while Saeyoung shares his dislike for Glam, he would never be this intentionally mean.

Glam, however, doesn’t seem surprised by this information. She gives him a wry smile and says, “Well, _your father_ likes me.”

Saeran stares unblinking at her. “Does he?” 

The subsequent stare down last two minutes before Glam looks away. She pulls out her purse and has the audacity to slap a 10000 yen bill down on the table. “Saeyoung-ah, your father and I are going out tonight. Be a dear and tell him you don’t want to watch that ridiculous movie with us anymore. Go play with your friends or something.”

Saeran gives her his sweetest smile. “Oh? But dad wants us to spend more time _together_.”

As if on cue, V returns from the office and blinks at them. “Sorry for the interruption.”

Glam sets a perfectly manicured hand on V’s shoulder. “No need to be sorry. Saeyoung-ah was just telling me that—”

“I’m really excited to watch that film with you guys!” Saeran cuts in eagerly. “I even looked up reviews online! I’ll go set up the couch in the home theater after dinner!”

V looks relieved. “Sounds good.”

The rest of the night is spent sitting between Glam and V as Saeran feigns interest in the arthouse film his father picked out. Glam begins the movie making inane commentary about the script and huffing when V, in his movie-viewing trance, does not respond. She excuses herself a third of the way through, citing a headache. “I’ll go rest in your room,” Glam tells V, most likely expecting him to follow her.

Gross, Saeran thinks. Thankfully, the plot starts to get good about then, and he spends the rest of the movie asking V about the cinematography. V seems interested enough in the conversation that he doesn’t go check up on Glam. By the time they finish discussing the execution of scene transitions in maintaining the motifs of the story, Saeran has forgotten that he only did this to cockblock Glam. 

“When did you get so interested in filmography?” V asks when the credits begin to roll.

“At camp,” is Saeran’s default reply. The truth is that he has always liked indie films—an interest that his mother humored but did not understand. “But, eh, maybe we can watch more together when you have time?”

V smiles. “I’d love that.”

 

 **707** : SO  
**707** : HOW IS  
**707** : THE  
**707** : MISSION  
**707** : GOING?  
**707** : o(^◇^)o  
**Unknown** : does it physically pain you to write everything in one message?  
**707** : yes  
**707** : (◕︿◕✿)  
**Unknown** : It’s going okay. I like talking to dad, but Bland Choi comes over too much  
**707** : HAHA  
**707** : BLAND CHOI  
**707** : NICE  
**707** : ˭̡̞(◞⁎˃ᆺ˂)◞*✰  
**Unknown** : I’ll make sure she gets what she deserves  
**707** : Ohhh  
**707** : Sounds ominous  
**Unknown** : Whatever  
**707** : Maybe we shouldn’t be too harsh on her?  
**707** : Dad does like her  
**707** : after all  
**Unknown** : Are you bailing out now?  
**707** : WHAT  
**707** : NO  
**707** : I NEVER BACK OUT  
**707** : I’M THE DEFENDER OF JUSTICE!  
**Unknown** : Good. We need mom and dad to get back together  
**Unknown** : Don’t you want us to be a family again?  
**707** : Saeran-ah  
**707** : Even if our plan doesn’t work, you’ll always be my family  
**707** : You know that, right?  
**Unknown** : Just help me with the plan

 

The first time his mother had asked if he wanted to accompany her to her office, Saeyoung had practically leaped at the chance. "Yes, mom!" he'd exclaimed, practically bouncing out the door with her, holding his laptop under his arm and struggling to hide the wide grin on his face. 

Rika had raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You're never so enthusiastic about following me to work. Saeran-ah, are you plotting something?"

Saeyoung shook his head. "No, mum! I uh, uh, I just missed you while I was at camp, that's all."

Following Rika to her office and playing on his laptop while she works has since become an almost-daily routine. Saeyoung's just glad to bask in his mother's company while she talks to customers, and to bother her poor, long-suffering assistant Kang Jaehee who is tasked with some of the most ridiculous things from wealthy clients. Sometimes, Assistant Kang is sent into the cold, cruel world outside to purchase some of the more outrageous requests, such as a sudden demand for three hundred poodle-sized outfits or nail polish for cat claws.

Besides, it's kind of fun talking to her clients from time to time. Mom has started letting Saeyoung sit in on her meetings, and he half pays attention and half tinkers with code. Sometimes, he looks up from his screen to contribute an idea, and Rika beams brightly at him when clients say, "You have such a creative son! It's so nice that your kid is taking an interest in your business."

His constant glowing at the reinforcement that Choi Rika is his mother, however, doesn't go unnoticed. One well-placed solution too many, and Assistant Kang is raising her brow. 

Saeyoung's vision tends to cloud after staring at his laptop for too long, and he knows it's because of the contacts. They feel foreign and bulky in his eyes and itch. He sneaks to the bathroom to put in eyedrops every so often so he's not blinking too much, but they're still fairly annoying. 

That afternoon, his eyes are misbehaving more than usual. He squints at his screen, trying his best to make out the words. Realizing that this isn't going to work, Saeyoung steps away from his computer, ducking away to the single bathroom. When he's in there he pokes a finger in his eyes to remove his contacts, heaving a sigh of relief at the momentary respite. With his gold eyes, he kind of looks like himself despite the stupid bleached hair. Saeyoung grins at his reflection in the mirror. Ah, to return to being the cuter and more humble Kim-Choi twin. 

The door swings open, and Saeyoung realizes with a panic that he's forgotten to lock it. 

"Shit," he mutters. This is the end! His cover is blown! Saeyoung scrambles to put the contacts back in, but it's too late. He isn't sure whether he's relieved or worried that it's Assistant Kang who's staring directly at him, gaze trained on the colored contacts in his hands. 

"You... You're wearing contacts," she whispers. She takes a step back, voice hushed and face pale, as though she's seen a ghost. "Who... Who are you, and what have you done with the real Saeran?" 

Saeyoung feels a lump in his throat, and his heart begins to race. "A-- ah! Don't run away! I'm pure and innocent, this was just a mistake, I, uh, darkness, emo stuff, I love visual kei..." Crap, no, his Saeran impression isn't working. Time to change strategies! 707, Defender of Justice, needs to figure out a different plan. 

A single tear falls down Saeyoung's cheek, and he begins to sob. 

Assistant Kang's lips part with shock as he cries large, wet crocodile tears. Saeyoung grabs onto Assistant Kang's blazer, using it as a napkin to wipe his eyes; she pulls away, both panic and disgust etched onto her face. He gulps, staring deeply at Assistant Kang. Now would be a useful time for him to showcase how cute and innocent he can be. "I... I just wanted to be a family again..." 

Assistant Kang blinks. "Excuse me?"

Saeyoung sniffs, and launches into the entire, convoluted tale—the meeting at camp, the initial enmity, the finding of each other's birth certificates. He makes sure to put extra emphasis on how he felt so lied to, and how utterly heartbroken he had been to know that his mother was alive. Saeyoung is just about to launch in another soliloquy about how he's felt like a part of him was missing his entire life before Assistant Kang pulls away, heaving a sigh.

"That's enough, Saera—Saeyoung, whatever your name is." She rubs her temples. "My head is spinning, I need some time to process all of this..."

"You believe me?" Saeyoung beams. He pushes up his cheeks with glee. "You really, really believe me?"

Assistant Kang sighs again. "This is too outrageous to be a lie... I don't get paid enough to do this job." She takes a deep breath, placing a hand on Saeyoung's shoulder. 

Saeyoung nods with agreement. "I know. This sounds like the plot of a movie from the 90s. Sometimes I have a hard time believing it myself." 

A frown crosses Assistant Kang's brow, and she folds her arms. "That's fine and all... I guess. Are you ever planning to tell your mother?"

Saeyoung smiles sheepishly. "Uh, give us time?" 

 

 **707** : I have bad news  
**707** : Assistant Kang knows the truth...  
**707** : T___T I think I got her to keep our secret but...  
**707** : I'm so sorry, Saeran...  
**707** : I have failed you... Please carry on our good work...  
**Unknown** : ... Oh.  
**Unknown** : I wouldn't worry too much, though. Assistant Kang can keep a secret.  
**707** : Wahh! Really?  
**707** : Thank you @God!!  
**Unknown** : Just be more careful next time.  
**Unknown** : I think Dad might be getting worried about me, too. I've been holding him off by playing lots of Love Live School Idol Festival on your phone.  
**Unknown** : It’s kind of fun, actually. I've been looking up strategies.  
**707** : OH  
**707** : MY  
**707:** GOD  
**707** : SAERAN-AH!!  
**707** : TELL ME MORE  
**707** : WHO'S YOUR BEST GIRL  
**707** : ISN'T HONOKA A DARLING  
**Unknown** : I like Nico.  
**707** : NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
**707** : HOW CAN WE BE RELATED!!  
**707** : HOW HAVE YOU NOT BEEN CHARMED BY HONOKA'S ENERGY? HER RADIANCE?  
**Unknown** : I'm surprised you don't like Nico more. She's a gremlin just like you.  
**707** : HONOKA'S DRIVE TO ACHIEVE HER DREAMS  
**707** : HER BRILLIANT SMILE  
**Unknown** : Now /I'm/ beginning to wish I was adopted.  
**Unknown** : Down to business, though.  
**Unknown** : I have an idea. It's about Bland Choi... 

 

The plan is to find dirt on Glam that will make her fall out of V’s favor. Unfortunately, Glam’s publicity team seems to be doing an okay job, because they can’t find any scandal-inducing information even with their combined internet skills. Saeran takes it upon himself to scour the apartment for anything incriminating Glam may have left behind. 

V’s office is Saeran’s first stop, but the only object of interest he finds is a discarded scarf that reeks of fancy perfume. It doesn’t help that Saeran gets distracted by random photo albums and spends an hour laughing at Saeyoung in diapers. His father’s bedroom is next, and Saeran does his best to minimize traces of his search by memorizing the precise spot for each item. After some snooping, he discovers an old shoebox underneath the bed. 

“Jackpot,” Saeran mumbles when he opens the box to find random memorabilia. They appear to be sentimental stuff one would keep of their lover. While Saeran isn’t exactly expecting incriminating results from Glam’s STD test, he nearly drops the first piece of paper he unfolds.

 _Dear Rika_ , the letter begins. Saeran’s eyes scam through the letter until the writing trails off. Saeran riffles through the rest of the box to find a broken bracelet, a few rolls of undeveloped film, and what appears to be restaurant receipts dated back to sixteen years ago. 

These things didn’t belong to Glam, Saeran realizes belatedly. They all belonged to _their mom_. The unfinished love letter should have been confirmation enough, but Saeran isn’t satisfied until he finds a worn photo of his mom tucked into an old wallet, the inscriptions on the leather suggesting it was a gift from her to V. His mother looks younger, happier in the photo as she touches her round belly. 

Saeran can’t deal with this. He gingerly returns everything to the box and repositions it under the bed. His mood has taken a unexpected nose dive, and Saeran puts a pause on his search by lying down on the couch in the game room. He decides to play some Overwitch and groans when the wireless controller appears to be out of battery. Saeran digs through a few drawers for the chord and frowns when he spots the overstuffed closet. 

Saeran expected many things from his brother’s game room closet: old console boxes, crammed electronics, or perhaps more Love Live cardboard cutouts.

What he finds is a closet full of dresses, ordered by color. Upon closer examination, Saeran realizes they look familiar. The mannequin heads lining the top row of the closet nearly send Saeran into cardiac arrest, but he scowls upon recognizing a particularly pink dress. “Holy fuck,” Saeran mumbles. “These are _cosplays_.”

 

 **Unknown** : WHY ARE YOU SO EXTRA??  
**707** : ??  
**707** : Saeran-ah?  
**707** : (・_・ヾ  
**Unknown** : ((link))  
**707** : Ohoho~  
**707** : I see you found my stash of secret disguises!  
**707** : 707, Defender of Justice, must act with mystery!  
**707** : Think of it as espionage!  
**707** : Like being a secret agent who cannot reveal his identity, protecting his younger brother from an evil terrible cult!  
**Unknown** : Does dad know about the-  
**707** : Cosplaying?? Yeah!! He shot most of my photobook!  
**Unknown** : Photobook  
**707** : Yes! There's an entire photobook of me in my room. Somewhere.  
**707** : ... Somewhere.....  
**707** : OH  
**707** : MY  
**707** : GOD  
**707** : I just had a brilliant idea.  
**Unknown** : Oh no  
**707** : Why don't YOU try on some of the disguises?  
**707** : Since we're twins, you'd probably look just as beautiful  
**Unknown** : BYE

 

Meanwhile, Saeyoung works diligently on his impeccable plan. This includes finding dirt on Glam Choi online, of course, which keeps him glued to his laptop for hours late into the night. He hasn't come up with much information, but that will hopefully be a matter of time. However, the more exciting and fun part of the Defender of Justice's plans include courting a certain beautiful brown-haired girl with the most mysterious eyes he's seen in his life. Saeyoung had devised a dastardly and highly intelligent plot to court MC. Step one? Invite her over to spend time with him, which meant that he had to get himself un-grounded.

This includes having to clean his room. 

This is far too much effort. Saeyoung shudders at the very thought of having to vacuum or fold his clothes! Never fear, for technology can help him speed up the process. One night after he finishes his share of Glam Choi research, Saeyoung digs into the supply closet and picks out the Roomba. He proceeds to spend the rest of the night tinkering with it, connecting it to a program he wrote on his computer so that it can clean for him. Alas, he lacks the supplies to build a robot servant that will pick up after his clothing for him in Busan, but he can work on that when he's returned to his home back in Seoul. Then he can send his mother a servant, and she'll never have to clean another day in her beautiful life!

For now, though, he works on the Roomba. Rika returns home from work one day to find Saeran whistling Snow Halation while lying on his bed, all his laundry picked up and haphazardly folded, the Roomba catching every speck of dirt in the room that is humanly possible. She raises an eyebrow, but says, "Good boy." Saeyoung pumps his fist into the air.

Success! 

Time to initiate part two of Step One. As soon as Saeyoung gets the all-clear to be un-grounded from his mother ("Please, pretty please with a cherry on top of a sea of Honey Buddha Chips") he immediately calls MC on Saeran's phone, asking all-too-sweetly if she would like to come over to watch Season 1 of the Love Live anime. While she doesn't seem to realize that this is supposed to be a date ("That sounds lovely, I'll tell Yoosung!") at least they will get to have some time together, so Saeyoung also considers that part a success.

Part three of Step One involves him, MC, and Yoosung sitting on Rika's couch, staring at the television. Saeyoung has watched this show far too many times and hums along to every single tune, while Yoosung is fairly excited and loves Eli. MC is, much to his delight, curled up next to him, periodically asking him questions. 

"So how many episodes are there in Season 1?"

"Thirteen! And there are another thirteen episodes in Season 2," Saeyoung says, inching closer to her, trying to hide the burning blush on his face. He knows that this is probably just MC being comfortable with Saeran, but it's hard to hide how his BRAIN IS BEATING SO FAST when MC leans into his lap. Saeyoung quickly turns his face away. "Uh, anyway! Any more questions?"

MC doesn't seem to notice, reaching for another of the Honey Buddha Chips from the packet next to Saeyoung. "How many EPs have they released so far? I'd like to go home and listen to some of their music."

Now this is a question he can definitely answer. "Seven actual, real, singles as Muse, with a bunch of individual or duo singles from the subunits, and a few solo singles, too! And a lot of other Muse singles in conjunction with other promotions! And a ton of other songs—"

"Ah," MC says, flicking a lock of hair out of her face and looking up to gaze at Saeyoung, "Do you know their entire discography then? I didn't know you were such a big fan, Saeran-ah."

Saeyoung feels his heart leap into his throat. Abort mission abort mission, Saeran isn't supposed to know this! How could he have slipped again so soon? He begins to wrack his brain for all manner of excuses. "Uh, actually..."

Just then, he heard the jingling of keys, and Rika glided into the room, shooting the three of them an amused little smile. Saeyoung sits up a little straighter. His mother, his savior, the one with impeccable timing! "Hey, mum!" he says, just a bit too brightly. 

"Hello, MC—ah, Yoosungie," Rika says politely. "It's really rare for Saeran-ah to invite friends over, so it's nice to see you both here." She smiles, and Saeyoung gulps a little. Never mind, perhaps this wasn't a great idea after all. Still, his mother doesn't comment much more on the development, and slides into the seat next to Yoosung. She doesn't seem to mind that MC is sprawled all over Saeran. "What are you guys watching?"

"It's called Love Live, Rika-unnie!" Yoosung pipes up. "It's about a group of girls who try to save their school after it's supposed to get shut down. It's really good, it makes you want to cheer for them."

Rika raises an eyebrow. "Oh? I'm surprised Saeran-ah didn't make you watch some horror film." Still, she says no more after that, watching the show with the three of them. They are on episode eight, just after Eli has joined the group and all nine girls have been assembled to Muse. Rika points at Eli on the screen as she orders Honoka and Kotori around, telling them to stop messing about. "I like that one."

"I like Eli the most too!" Yoosung chirps. "She's really awesome, and smart. She was really bitter for a long time but she learns to look towards the light and learns to believe in her friends."

"Does she?" Rika asks, smiling. "Well, now I like her even more." She turns to MC and Saeran. "What about the two of you? Do you have favorites?"

Saeyoung almost jumps out of his chair. "LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT KOUSAKA HONOKA!"

Everyone turns to stare at Saeyoung, but he doesn't notice. Instead, he clears his throat, ready to launch into his usual tirade. "Honoka is by far the number one member of Muse! Not just because she joined first, but also because she works so hard. She does a lot of really silly things but learns and grows from all her mistakes, and the group wouldn't be able to function without her shining guidance and light. A lot of fans don't ship her with anyone at all, which I think is terrible because imagine being the start of making an organization or something and then realizing that everyone else has gotten closer to one another without you? Like a big party, and you're the one who designed the app to make the party possible, but everyone else has gotten to know the belle of the ball and you're just on the outside looking in! How awful would that be—"

Saeyoung pauses, immediately cupping his mouth shut. Oh no, oh no, oh no! Now his cover is definitely blown. He glances around the room. Yoosung is staring blankly at him and MC's jaw has fallen open. The smile on Rika's face, however, hasn't faded, though now Saeyoung has noticed that it doesn't reach her eyes. She reaches towards Saeyoung, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"It's good that you opened up so much after camp, Saeran-ah." The show is still playing in the background, but Saeyoung's attention is diverted by how she inches closer towards him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug. "It's almost like... Almost like... You're someone..."

Her voice trails off, and Saeyoung isn't sure if he wants to watch Love Live this evening any more. 

 

 

 

Saeran knows he’s been unproductive at carrying out his part of the plan, but unforeseen roadblocks have hindered him at every turn. Such roadblocks include:

His father’s irregular schedule. V seems to be strangely busy for a freelancer, and he’s usually out on location shoots when not locked in his office. Most of Saeran’s interactions with him ends with them on the couch, Saeran talking over documentaries on tv or going through RAWs on V’s camera. What little time they spend together is so nice and peaceful that Saeran doesn’t want to disrupt it by bringing up his mother. 

Glam Choi, who has caught on to Saeran’s more aggressive efforts at interrupting her time with V. Saeran suspects that while Saeyoung has shown active dislike towards her, he’s never made an attempt to foil her. Saeran doesn’t understand what his father sees in Glam, who is the exact opposite of his mother. Thinking about it makes his head hurt.

Saeyoung’s inability to distinguish important information from useless ones. For all of Saeyoung’s rambling about Elizabeth’s favorite dry food and the importance of honey buddha chips in his diet, he has casually left relevant information about his house, their dad, uncle Jumin, Chef RamG, and pretty much about his entire damn life. Also included in this umbrella are Saeyoung’s friends, who are relentlessly nosy and demanding. 

Which is why Saeran wakes up from his nap one day to find someone sitting on the foot of his bed. When Saeran closes his eyes and tries to ignore her, Vanderwood yanks the blankets back. “Yah, wake up already! I haven’t seen you all summer and this is how you treat me?”

“How did you get in here?” Saeran mumbles into his pillow.

“Oh, please,” Vanderwood stands up and starts surveying the room. “The passcode on the door is still set to ‘cat’ in arabic. You haven’t changed it in ages, slacker. Don’t make me regret downloading this arabic dictionary on my phone.” Ah, that explains how Zen got in, too. 

Saeran sits up and rubs idly at his eye. He really should’ve taken his contacts out before going to sleep. Saeran watches lazily as Vanderwood circles around the room, scowling at everything. “Why are you here?”

“Just checking if my favorite ugly red lump is still alive. I can’t believe you _cleaned_. This is the first time I’ve seen your carpet in years.”

“Eh, the housekeeper did it,” Saeran lies.

“Right, and where’s Honoka?”

Saeran squints. The cardboard cut out? “She’s in the closet.”

Vanderwood stops from picking up a bag of honey butter chips. “What the fuck. Who are you and what have you done with Saeyoung?” It’s just a friendly jab, because Vanderwood doesn’t wait for Saeran’s response before dusting some nonexistent lint off her coat. Still, Saeran feels nervous. “Anyways, get your lazy ass out of bed already. We’re getting dinner with Zen.”

“Urg, okay. Go wait in the living room and let me change.”

This makes Vanderwood snort. “Since when have you been shy?” Regardless, she glides out of the room easily with a comment of, “Don’t you dare wear that longcat shirt again. I _will_ disown you this time.”

Twenty minutes later, Saeran is clad in a perfectly normal, non-cat motif shirt as they meet Zen at a local tteokbokki place. They must frequent this place a lot, because the owner looks delighted to see Saeran and sits them at a more private table in the back. “I assume you’ll have your regular?”

“Yes, please,” Saeran replies awkwardly. 

“You should unlock people’s phones more if it means we get free food,” Zen says. When a waitress returns with a pan of broth, Zen leans into Saeran, pulls out a compact mirror, and begins fixing his hair. “So any luck with Glam?”

Saeran resists the urge to push Zen away. “No. I tried to dig up dirt on her but…”

“Share,” Vanderwood demands without looking away from her phone. “What did you discover? Can you confirm whether her chin is fake?”

“Eh, I didn’t find anything on her, but I found some stuff that belonged to my mom.” Saeran doesn’t know why he’s sharing this information with Saeyoung’s friends when he hasn’t even told Saeyoung yet. He’s not expecting it when Zen sits up properly and Vanderwood looks away from her phone. Saeran frowns when both of them stare at him. “What?”

Zen puts a hand on Saeran’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

Saeran frowns at the table. The broth is starting to bubble and he tries his best to keep his eyes on the green onions floating to the top. “About what?”

“I know you don’t like to talk about your mom,” Zen continues like he’s trying to placate a small animal. “I’m sure she was a really kind person, so don’t feel sad.”

Saeran’s mind frantically backtracks as he tries to process Zen’s comment. “Oh,” he says lamely. “She’s not dead.”

“ _Wait, what_?” Vanderwood and Zen chorus, before Vanderwood scoots closer. “When did you discover this?!” 

“Over the summer,” Saeran says. It feels nice to tell the truth for once. “She lives in Busan.”

Zen and Vanderwood share a weird look. “So,” Zen says after a while. “You haven’t tried to go see her?” 

It occurs to Saeran now that this is exactly the rash kind of thing Saeyoung would do. Then he remembers that Saeyoung did do it, in some ways, by taking place in their switch. Saeran looks down at his hands. “It’s weird. I wanted to, but I don’t know what I would say.” It’s how he felt about meeting V for the first time and Saeran had dreaded the possibility that V wouldn’t want to be his father once he realized Saeran wasn’t Saeyoung. 

Zen responds by pulling Saeran into a half hug. “I get it, Saeyoung-ah. It’s okay to be uncertain.”

“Uncertain” doesn’t even begin to describe how Saeran feels, but he’s glad for the warmth of Zen’s body as he continues to stare into their soup. “Thanks,” he says absently. 

“So do you plan on seeing her eventually?” Zen asks.

“First, I need to get rid of Glam.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Vanderwood speaks up for the first time in what seems like forever. “Regardless of your dad’s marital status, your mother will still be the same. It’s not like Glam’s existence will determine your relationship with your mother.” Saeyoung had said the same thing once. Even though Saeran knows that their mother would love them equally, he stills feels uncertain about V. It seems obvious to him that V’s decision to get remarried means he’s ready to start a new life and a new family without Saeran. 

“Stop thinking so much.” Vanderwood turns down the heat and dumps cheese onto their soup. “Anyways, the food is ready. Eat and sulk on a full stomach.” She doesn’t wait before spooning out a plate for Saeran and setting it in front of him. 

Zen runs a soothing hand on Saeran’s back. “Vanderwood is right. No matter what happens, your dad still loves you. We do, too.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Vanderwood mumbles, but smirks at Saeran nonetheless. 

Belatedly, Saeran realizes that MC would probably give him the same advice. He misses his friends at home and the warmth of his mother’s constant presence. But, sitting here, Saeran decides that Saeyoung’s friends are not bad either.

His moment of fondness is abruptly interrupted when Zen dumps three spoonfuls of gochujang into Saeran’s plate. “Are you trying to kill me?” Saeran hisses after his first bite of tteokbokki, his mouth now on fire. 

Zen blinks. “Don’t you usually put more in there?”

“You’re getting weak,” Vanderwood chimes in while picking the fish cakes out of their pan. Still, no one makes fun of Saeran for the rest of the time, and they split the check before deciding on ice cream at the place down the street. 

While waiting in line, they chat about Zen’s performance with the local theater group and Vanderwood’s visit to England. Saeran learns that Zen is popular with the ahjumas in the neighborhood and that Vanderwood spends a portion of every summer abroad with her father. By the time they arrive at the front of the line, Saeran has completely forgotten to read the menu.

“I’ll have chocolate,” Saeran says.

“No jalapeno pineapple today?” The girl behind the counter laughs. Does _everyone_ know Saeyoung? 

Saeran scowls. That sounds nasty. “I’m cultivating a more refined palate,” Saeran tells her. His comment seems to be in character, because the girl just grins and hand him a chocolate ice cream cone. 

Eventually, they migrate from the ice cream back to the apartment. Vanderwood goes through V’s collection of DVDs while Saeran lies across two seats in the home theater. “Let’s take a vote already,” Vanderwood decides, and looks surprised when Saeran votes for the horror movie.

“But you _love_ romcoms!” Zen whines when his choice gets out voted. 

“People change,” Saeran says unsympathetically and pops the DVD in. When a terribly CGed scene sends Zen into hysterical shrieking and makes him bury his face in Saeran’s back, Vanderwood laughs so hard she collapses onto Saeran’s other side. Saeran can’t find it in himself to mind. 

 

 

 

The Glam Choi research is going terribly. No matter how hard Saeyoung digs and how far he crawls into the dankest armpits of the Internet, he can barely find any information on this lady. A part of him is convinced that she's an evil computer program brought to life and he wouldn't bat an eyelash if that turned out to be true. Maybe she's a virus. That would explain a lot about her. Alas, he isn't a walking, talking antivirus software and purging her has proven to be difficult. Saeyoung knots his brows as he sits in the living room of their house, not even glancing up when his mother walks in, muttering a soft, "Hey, Mom," underneath his breath. 

Rika frowns. "Saeran-ah, are you okay?" 

"Mm," Saeyoung says, eyes still trained on his computer screen. He's created search bots to pull up any news about Glam Choi that might prove to be incriminating, one for Moogle, one for Dahoo, and one for EmEsEn, but none of them have pulled anything up. Perhaps he'll need to make one for Ding as well? Saeyoung opens up his code in a separate window, not noticing his mother walk up closer to him and patting his shoulder lightly.

"Saeran-ah, I think you need to take a break. It looks like you've been really stressed out." Her hand hovers on top of his laptop screen. "Why don't you save your work, and we can watch some television?" 

Saeyoung glances up from his screen. His mother's lips are pursed and her eyes are narrowed, and he knows better than to question her. He swallows the lump in his throat, muttering a soft "Yeah," and slamming his laptop shut. Saeyoung leans back in the sofa. 

"Now what?" he asks in a surprisingly Saeran-like manner. Rika just laughs.

"You and I are going to watch Ascendants of the Moon together. I heard that this week's episode is really good."

Saeyoung nods, trying to hide his enthusiasm. "Uh, sure!" 

His mother turns on the television, and Ascendants of the Moon starts playing on their flat screen television. Saeyoung thinks that the acting in this drama is hamfisted, the plot is overwrought with unnecessary twists, and the soundtrack is cheesy and ridiculous. He also absolutely loves it. Soon, he is absorbed in the plot of the show, gasping and clenching onto a pillow at the sad parts, and laughing and slapping his knee at the funny bits. Saeyoung gives his mother a bright grin, watching her snicker when the evil lady in the show declares she's going to start a cult. She turns around to face him. "Are you feeling better now? Think about it, your life will never be as complicated as the characters." 

Saeyoung beams back at her. "Yup!" She is right: watching the drama play out really does make him think his own life is much more simple. An actor character on the show has just been accused of sexually harassing another female actress in a plotline that Saeyoung thinks is unnecessarily misogynistic and another character is trying to escape her terrible and demanding boss. Said boss is handling his own feelings and trying to trap the main character of the show in a cage repeatedly and a fourth college-aged character cannot get over the death of his cousin. Meanwhile... 

The main male lead of the show is a cheerful, excitable young man who hides his deepest feelings. Saeyoung feels a strange twinge in his chest as said male lead tells the female lead that he has a twin brother out there who he wanted to save from an abusive environment, and that he would like to be reunited with his "other half" in another life. Nervously, he turns around to stare at his mother, who is beginning to dab at her eyes with a tissue--

"Saeran-ah, m-maybe we should change the channel."

"Why?" Saeyoung asks nervously, even though he already knows the answer. His mother shakes her head and Saeyoung knows better than to ask again, quickly picking up the remote and flicking to a variety show that features the world's longest cats. 

Another twinge tugs at Saeyoung's heart and guilt washes over him. _I'm sorry_ , he thinks to himself—soon his mother will find out that he's not actually Saeran, not actually her "real" son and she will eventually send him back. The dream of having a whole family seems, at times, to be one that he can only see in television dramas.

At least there are distractions from his internal turmoil. 

For one, MC makes sure that his mind is otherwise occupied. She, Yoosung, and Saeyoung hang out fairly frequently now it is the holidays, spending time at each other's houses and going to the movies, and hanging out at the ice-cream shop near the pier which offers only ridiculously boring flavors, like cookie dough and mint: Saeyoung misses his jalapeno flavored goodness back in Seoul. Sometimes, they sit at the playground that Saeran apparently used to frequent as a child, idly kicking back on the swings and pretending to be six years old again. They are there one evening, Saeyoung and MC on the swings and Yoosung pushing her, when he feels the burning urge to ask MC a pointed question.

"There... There's been something I've been thinking about a lot lately," he says, face suddenly turning a bright shade of pink. 

MC blinks back at him, turning behind her to ask Yoosung to stop pushing. "Yeah?" she says, and Yoosung also leans in, curious. 

Saeyoung's blush grows even brighter. "Uh, it's something kind of weird, and I—I don't know! My brain is beating so fast!" There's a weird thumping sensation in his chest now, and he feels even more feverish than before. He lifts a hand to his head. "I think I might be getting sick?"

"Did you mean your _heart_ is beating so fast?" Yoosung asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Uh, yes. I mean, no!" he says, suddenly burying his face in his hands. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all. Still, now Yoosung and MC are peering in closely to him like aunties surveying a watermelon at the market, trying to inspect its quality. Not even the dankest of dank memes will be able to assist Saeyoung in his escape! He raises both his hands. "I've just been thinking a lot, that's all! About things!"

"What things?" MC asks. She leans in, mouth twisting into a grin that Saeyoung is 70.7% sure is devious. "Tell me what you've been thinking about, Saeran-ah." 

"Uhhh," Saeyoung mumbles. "Do... MC, would you ever date a friend?"

There is a silence in the background and Saeyoung swears that he could almost hear a pin drop.

It is then when MC throws her head back, and begins to laugh.

What starts as a soft chuckle turns into a louder one, and then another. Soon, she is clenching her stomach as she leans back on the swing, shaking her head and laughing. Saeyoung flushes again. "This isn't funny!" he mumbles. "I could be sick with some sort of weird disease. There might be something wrong with my code—"

"Saeran, Saeran," MC heaves between laughter. She holds up a hand. "Don't—don't even—" She is unable to continue though, and continues bursting into hysterics. Yoosung tilts his head to the side, almost as confused as Saeyoung is. The two boys stare at each other blankly before turning back to face MC. 

MC takes a deep breath, lips still pulled into a wide grin. "Okay. I'm okay now, I swear," she says, burying her head in her hands and shaking it from side to side. "Sorry, that was kind of funny. Anyway, yes, Saeran," she says, brushing her bangs out of her face and staring at him with those gorgeous brown eyes, "I would absolutely date a friend. I think friends are the best options for love interests. You have to develop a deep sense of trust, and that’s already in place in most friendships." 

Saeyoung gulped. "R-really?" The strange beating sensation has returned to his chest once again. MC blinks back at him.

"Anyway, why do you keep asking this sort of questions these days? Last I checked you had no need for romance." She frowns. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Saeran?"

Saeyoung gulps. "Uh, I'm here! Just questioning my life decisions, that's all. Anyway, did you hear? My Chemical Romance is making a comeback and I, uh, want to lick Gerard Way's eyeball..." 

He manages to avert the subject by bringing up Saeran's esoteric interests, and they discuss both English and Korean emo music for a while (Saeyoung is really scraping the bottom of the barrel with his knowledge, but he supposes there is enough to pass.) They are so busy chatting that Saeyoung barely notices the four large, burly teenage boys storming up towards the three of them until MC perks her head up, and panic floods into her face. The tallest one among them snarls, doing what must be an impression of a hissing snake but sounding more like a deflating balloon instead. "Hey twerps."

Saeyoung blinks, turning away from Yoosung. He chuckles. "Twerps? That's really funny! Who even says that any more?" 

The boy grunts. "Oh no you didn't! Are you ready for a knuckle sandwich?"

Saeyoung's lips part, and he tilts his head to the side. "No thank you, I already ate."

There is an awkward pause between all of them as the boys stare at each other, then back at Saeyoung. The color has drained from Yoosung's face and MC looks like she is about to fly into a rage, but Saeyoung tries his best to keep calm. Finally, their ringleader speaks again. "Uh, then... What about a knuckle snack?" 

"That sounds good!" Saeyoung pipes up. I do love snacks."

"What the hell? You're so weird." 

The boys in front of him don't seem to get the joke. The leader marches up towards Saeyoung, grabbing him by the leather collar and yanking him close to his face. Hey, the guy's kind of cute, actually. Saeyoung waggles his eyebrows. "Whoa whoa! I know that I'm irresistible but you don't need to come on so strong." 

The boy drops Saeyoung in shock and he is sent crashing back onto the seat of the swings. "What did you just say?" 

Saeyoung cringes. Ow, his butt hurts. Still, the other boys behind the guy who just grabbed his collar are whispering among themselves and Saeyoung gets the feeling that they might not stand up for their ringleader if he keeps going the way he is. He flutters his lashes again. In the background, MC is laughing to herself while Yoosung watches on with wide eyes. Saeyoung turns around and gives MC a wink. Maybe he can impress her while he's at it. Score one for him! He turns back to the bully, grinning widely. 

"I mean, you grabbed my collar and pulled me in super tight! It was almost like a scene from that ice skating anime. Yuri on Fire. Have you watched it? I heard it won a bunch of awards online that made people get really angry."

"I don't watch any of that pansy-ass shit!" the bully spits, though he takes a step back, jaw hanging open slightly. 

Saeyoung takes it that his Operation Weird-the-Bullies-Out is working. The smile on his face doesn't fade despite the growing fury within him: boy, he really hopes that Saeran doesn't have to deal with this on a regular basis. That would stink. "Well, I would recommend it. It's one of my favorite shows, along with Love Live." At this point, Saeyoung has almost forgotten that he's supposed to be his brother. "What kind of anime do you watch?"

"I told ya, I don't watch any of that stuff!" the boy bellows. "I know nothing about Love Love or Viktor on Fire or--"

"How did you know that there's a character called Viktor, then?"

There is a silence among all the boy's cronies before one of them lets out a snort, and then another. Saeyoung winks and shoots finger guns at the bully as he starts to choke and splutter, muttering, "Shut up" underneath his breath. The other boys are cackling still. Saeyoung shakes his head. 

"You don't need to hide what you love! Be yourself. That's what Honoka would tell you to do."

"I don't know anything about Honoka!" the guy exclaims, but it is too late for him. His cronies are now pointing and giggling, and laughing at his direction. He gives Saeyoung a sharp glare. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Choi Saeran, but you're acting super weird. I'm—I'm getting out of here."

The bully storms away, and his followers trail after him, laughing and slapping their knees. MC grabs hold of Saeyoung's arm, and leans into him. Saeyoung is imbued with a strange warmth as she speaks.

"That was awesome." 

 

 

V knocks on the open door of Saeyoung’s room a few days later and asks, “I’m going to Cheonggyecheon for a shoot. Would you like to come?” His voice is pleasant enough to suggest this isn’t an uncommon request, but Saeran still breaks his combo in START:DASH. “You should come. Nayeon-ah loves you.”

“Eh,” Saeran says as he tries to salvage the song. “Sure.”

Nayeon turns out to be four year old daughter of V’s old pastor. She’s turning five in a month and her parents had asked V to take some photos for commemorative purposes. Naeyon takes a liking to Saeran immediately and squeals “Oppa!” the moment she sees him. Around them, passersby laugh at the scene while walking around the stream.

“There’s my future son in law,” Pastor Nam says with a laugh. When Saeran blinks, Past Nam gives him a solid pat on the back. “You shouldn’t have promised to marry her. She’s never going to forget it.”

Saeran is going to kill his brother. But first, he pats Nayeon stiffly on the head and gulps when she beams at him. When she twirls around in her sundress, Saeran realizes he’s supposed to say something. “You look.. .cute.”

“Nayeon-ah,” V says now he’s done setting up his camera. “Oppa will play with you later. Won’t you come here and pose for me?” 

Saeran spends most of the shoot helping his father rotate through camera equipment. During intermittent downtimes, Nayeon glues herself to Saeran’s side and excitedly tells him about her growing collection of frog toys. Saeran watches as V slowly coax Nayeon out of her initial shyness. Saeran’s mother had always been kind but firm with children, so it seems strange to him that V let Nayeon choose her own poses and photo spots. When V and Pastor Nam both lift Nayeon with one hand to help her skip across the stream, Saeran sees some of his brother in Nayeon’s delighted laughter. Saeran knows he’s a petty person, but even he’s shocked by how jealous he feels. 

“Oppa, come take photos with me!” Nayeon yells, the gap in her teeth slurring her words. She’s inexplicably happy when Saeran joins her. They spend the rest of the shoot hopping across the pebble paths together while V snaps away. Eventually, Nayeon becomes sleepy and irritable, and Pastor Kim decides to call it a day. Nayeon waves Saeran goodbye relentlessly until both she and her father disappear into the nearest subway station. 

“She’s growing up so fast,” V says fondly after packing up his camera equipment. Nightfall is beginning to transform the area as more people emerge after work to stroll along the stream. “Shall we walk?”

Saeran nods and follows his father as they head in the direction of Insadong. In Seoul, everyone moves with hurried movements as if they’re trying to catch up to something unseen. Saeran, too, feels lost in the inertia of the city. Yet, V’s presence is like an anchor as they move through the crowds. “You’re really good with kids,” Saeran mumbles for lack of anything to say.

“Am I?” V hums, his signature sunglasses now sitting on the top of his head. “I had my hands full with you. Nayeon is an angel in comparison.”

“Sorry,” Saeran says, although he’s not sure why he’s apologizing.

V looks at him and smiles. “Don’t be. You may have been difficult as a child, but you’re also the best thing in my life, Saeyoung-ah.”

Saeran isn’t used to such overt declarations. He feels his face heat up. “Don’t be so embarrassing, Dad.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” V says again. He sets a hand on Saeran’s arm, his touch warm through the fabric of Saeran’s tshirt. 

“Was it hard?” Saeran asks quietly.

V just hums. “I had a lot of help, like Uncle Jumin and Chef RamG. Raising children is never easy, but I had a lot of resources. I’m lucky.”

All Saeran can think of is how lucky Saeyoung was to have V as his dad. 

 

 

 

His mother has been having a rough time recently, spending more time in her room and only surfacing for work and meals. Saeyoung has tried to talk to her, but she always brushes him off, telling him to "go spend some more time with your friends, since they seem to be making you so happy and cheerful these days." He is once again hit with a sense of guilt.

Saeyoung stares at his mother's locked door, and a pang of sadness shoots through him. Saeran would have known what to say to Rika. He's a lot better with feelings than Saeyoung is. All Saeyoung is good for is making people laugh, and even so, that doesn't seem to be working for Mom at all. He pulls up his phone, and begins to play Love Live, but even Honoka's cheerful laughter cannot help him be rid of the feeling that Saeran would have been a far better person for Rika right now.

 **Unknown** : Are you okay?  
**Unknown** : You've been quiet for a few days now.  
**707** : o(〃＾▽＾〃)o  
**707** : I'm totally okay!  
**707** : It's just!! Research!! Life!!  
**707** : Being distracted by the MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IN THE WORLD!!  
**707** : HOW DO YOU DEAL???  
**Unknown** : ... If you say so.  
**Unknown** : Promise me you'll tell me if something is wrong, okay?  
**707** : Aw, Saerannie!  
**707** : You're the bestest and cutest little bro ever.  
**707** : I'm sure anyone would be lucky to be related to you~~  
**Unknown** : ... Ew.

 

The idea of doing absolutely nothing for his mother is driving him crazy, and Saeyoung's heart breaks a little more every time he hears her sobbing alone in her room. Saeyoung is awoken by the sound of Rika crying around four in the morning one day, and inspiration suddenly strikes him. He sits up in the middle of the darkness, eyes brimming with the pride and joy of a new idea. His mother loves cats, but isn't sure whether she has the time or energy to take care of one, so he's going to build her one that doesn't need caretaking!

Glam Choi, MC, and his strange inferiority complex are suddenly forgotten as he pulls up his laptop and opens a command window, saving it as "robot cat." Saeyoung hums "Snow Halation" under his breath as he lists the features that he's going to install for it-- the basics, of course, like being trained to meow and purr upon command, and to have an appreciation for Honey Buddha Chips. But also! He types up the words "will light up and talk when someone around it is feeling depressed." Bingo! 

If he isn't of any use at cheering people up, he'll build a machine to do the cheering up for him. Saeyoung grins and gets to work, surfacing from his room with a robot cat a few days later. And when his mother is seen lying on the couch and petting the cat's nose, laughing and smiling like he hasn't seen her do in weeks, Saeyoung is awash with relief. He matches her smile with one of his own, watching his mother chat with the kitten that she's dubbed "Youngyoung." 

The cat seems to have worked well enough that he's somewhat comfortable inviting friends home again. MC, especially, upon hearing that he's built a robot cat, is excited to come over and see it, and one day after checking with his mother several times ("Can I really? Can I really? Can I really?") he invites MC to come over to play with Youngyoung one afternoon. MC is teaching it how to do tricks using the lure of Honey Butter Chips as a reward, watching the robot cat do flips and jumps in the air, when she turns to Saeyoung and smiles. 

"This is so cute, Saeran-ah! Will you make one for me?"

Saeyoung nods, a little too rapidly, head bobbing up and down like one of those nodding dolls. "Y- yeah! Of course I'll make one for you!" His mind begins to run with ideas. Maybe he can make MC's cat light up with nine colors, one for each of the girls from μ's. Maybe MC's cat can tell her bad jokes. Maybe MC's cat will--

"-- Actually, maybe not. If you made one for me, people might think you like me."

Saeyoung's eyes widen. "B- but I do like you!" 

The words spill out of his mouth before he has time to reel them back, and he is left staring at MC, his face gradually turning as red as his natural hair color. MC blinks at him multiple times, leaning in and booping him on the nose. 

"Are you... Are you okay?"

Crap. Crap. Saeyoung suddenly remembers MC's speech about Saeran not being interested in dating or romance, and feeling like he doesn't need any of that. "Uh," he says, his internal search engine crawling his mind for something to say, "Uh..." 

Slip of the tongue? Perhaps he was talking about liking Shrekt, that artist that Saeran is into? Won't work! MC is supposedly very perceptive and will definitely notice something fishy. 

Maybe he mistook MC for Honoka and was practicing what to say to the world's cutest idol? Won't work! MC is ever so slightly cuter that Honoka, though he won't ever admit it. (This message will self destruct in 3... 2... 1... Boom.) 

There's a weird bug in Saeran's programming that has made him temporarily be attracted to other human beings? Won't work! Much as he would like it to be true, he isn't actually a robot, and sadly romantic feelings aren't just a bug in the human code that he can stamp in and out. 

Saeyoung is left there gaping at MC like a Bungeoppang fish, hoping that someone will come and destroy his insides before he has to answer to her. She pulls away from him, eyebrows raised, biting her lip, and Saeyoung knows he is defeated. "Uh," he mutters. "Actually, I... I..." 

MC perks up. "I? J, K, L, M, N, O, P Q R S--

"Stop!" Saeyoung exclaims. This is terrible, and he flushes even brighter if it is possible. "I. I have a long story to tell you... I'msosorryI'mnotSaeran."

MC laughs. "I figured."

Saeyoung gasped. "Wait, how did you know?"

"It was an educated guess! So, tell me. Who are you, and why do you look so much like my best friend...?"

Saeyoung immediately launches into the story of how he and Saeran were reunited at camp and how they discovered each other. He brushes over some parts that he doesn't feel like addressing (mostly the bits about feeling betrayed, hurt, and lied to) and embellishes others that he thinks are super cool ("And then I threw a pie in Saeran's face, aiming at him like a trainer throwing a Pokeball, hitting him with a bulls-eye!") MC is enthralled by the whole thing and by the end of the story she and Saeyoung are cuddling on the couch, her leaning on his shoulder when he finishes with "And that's how I ended up in Busan, I guess." 

They hear the soft jingling of keys and pull away from each other with a soft yelp. Rika waltzes back into the living room to see MC and Saeyoung sitting just a little too closely to each other on the couch, and smiles.

"The two of you have gotten affectionate this summer. It's nice to see that you've opened up so much at camp," she says, scooting over to the couch and picking Youngyoung up where it lays next to Saeyoung. "I'm going to leave you alone for now, okay? You seem so happy with each other, though... I haven't seen you laugh like that in years, Saeran-ah." 

His mother walks back into her room. MC and Saeyoung trade pointed glances once they hear the slamming of her door, and she pats him ever so gently on the arm. "Are you okay?" 

Saeyoung wants to laugh. Okay? Of course he isn't okay. His disguise has slipped twice in the last three weeks, his mother is cheered up more by a robot cat than by him, and now guilt has gripped hold of him with a cold, clammy fist. Still, it isn't as though he's going to tell MC that, and forces a smile.

"Of course! 707, Defender of Justice, will never let anything get him down." 

 

 **707** : H E L P  
**707** : S  
**707** : O  
**707** : S  
**Unknown** : What happened?  
**707** : MC knows  
**Unknown** : Okay  
**707** : W  
**707** : H  
**707** : A  
**707** : T?  
**707** : Listen meow  
**707** : we need to change our plan meow  
**Unknown** : I was wondering how you’d manage to fool her. She’s very perceptive  
**707** : TT________TT  
**707** : WHAT DO WE DO MEOW!!!  
**Unknown** : Honestly?  
**Unknown** : Continue to proceed, but with caution.  
**Unknown** : MC can keep a secret.  
**Unknown** : Yoosung, on the other hand... 

 

In retrospect, Saeran shouldn’t have gotten carried away with living Saeyoung’s life. He had gotten complacent and let his guard down, which is why he’d allowed Vanderwood to peer over his shoulder while they lounge around the apartment.

“Wait,” Vanderwood says in the middle of Saeran’s Love Live game. “What’s up with your team?”

Saeran is busy trying to maintain his combo. “What?” 

“Why are you playing on a new account with mostly R cards? And with Nico as your main girl?”

“Urg,” Saeran mumbles. Stay focused, he reminds himself as he arrives at the most difficult part of the song. Next to him, Zen makes a vaguely surprised sound at the drama playing on the television. “Preferences change. It’s not a big deal.”

Vanderwood is quiet for a moment as Saeran finishes the song. In relief, Saeran leans back and brushes hair behind his ears, which is his second mistake. 

“When the hell did you get an industrial piercing?” Vanderwood demands as Zen looks over at them. “You have _no_ pain tolerance!” 

“Um.” Saeran gulps. “I got it at camp?”

This is apparently the wrong answer, because Vanderwood just squints at him. “You’ve been incredibly suspicious since you came back from camp.”

“What?” Saeran tries to feign Saeyoung’s facetious falsetto. “No way!”

“First, you actually cleaned your damn room for once and kept it clean. Then there’s the cooking and the newfound love for horror movies. And switching your best girl to Nico?? What the hell?”

“Aw.” Zen drapes himself over Saeran’s back, and Saeran is thankful for his comforting presence. “Go easy on Saeyoung! You know things have been difficult for him! By the way, I’m getting kind of hungry. Where are the honey buddha chips?”

Saeran sighs in relief. “In the storage room. They were cluttering up my room.”

Zen slowly extracts himself from Saeran and shares a foreboding look with Vanderwood. “Who _are_ you?” Zen and Vanderwood chorus.

Shit, shit, Saeran thinks as he frantically tries to remember what Saeyoung would say in this situation. “Meow?? Pepe???”

“The Saeyoung I know would never execute a Pepe meme so poorly!” Zen grabs Saeran by the face and squeezes his cheeks, as if that will reveal a mask of some sort. “Wait… Why do your eyes look so greenish? Are you wearing _contacts_?”

Saeran pulls away. “No one told you to stare deeply into my eyes!” 

“Actually, that’s covered on my list of bff privileges.” Zen has the audacity to pull out a photo from his wallet.

Saeran averts his eyes from them both and stares at the photo, where Zen and Saeyoung are hugging and laughing like fools. On the other side is a list of handwritten “bff privileges” that range from _free smooches!!!_ to _permission to cry OBJECTION at my wedding._ Absolutely ridiculous. 

“This is getting super freaky. What are you, his secret twin?” Vanderwood whispers. It’s half-joke and half-accusation, but when Saeran fails to come up with a good response, her eyes widen. “Holy shit. Who _are_ you?”

While Saeran hadn’t really prepared for this, he does the only thing that comes to mind and pulls up a photo on Saeyoung’s phone. It’s one of the few selfies they have together, but one glance at the picture of both twins together is enough to confirm Vanderwood’s suspicions. 

“Woah,” Zen says, peering up at Saeran through long lashes. 

Vanderwood finally shoves the phone back at Saeran. “Start from the beginning.”

Telling the truth is surprisingly cathartic after the past few weeks. Saeran feels as if a dam has broken, and he finds himself recapping the series of events that led to them discovering their identities at camp. Saeran probably skips a few details in his haste, but Vanderwood and Zen listens, captivated, nonetheless. 

“Twins,” Zen muses thoughtfully by the end of Saeran’s story. “That’s amazing. Imagine having something else as beautiful as me in this world…”

Vanderwood just rolls her eyes. “This makes sense. Only Saeyoung, that idiot, would come up with this plan and leave us to deal with his twin brother. That’s double the trouble and double the pain in my ass.” When she doesn’t get a response, Vanderwood smirks. “See? Saeyoung would’ve made a bad joke out of that.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Zen continues. “Are you still planning to get your parents back together?”

Saeran frowns to himself. The truth is that he’s been wondering this too, and with every passing day the possibility of success seems more improbable. “I don’t know.”

Even Vanderwood doesn’t have a snarky response to that.

 

 

 

At least work with his mother is going well. Saeyoung has taken great glee in being able to help her deal with clients and navigate through some of the stranger ones, including one that only talks in meows and nyans and only responds when Saeyoung nyans back in return. Rika takes great pleasure in watching Saeyoung wheel and deal with customers and sometimes brings him along to events, which Saeyoung is more than happy to do. It means he gets to strut around in a little suit and tie, chat with people and make them laugh. 

Saeyoung is mostly good at making people laugh. 

This evening is particularly special because it's with a rather strange customer who refers to himself as @God. Saeyoung is pretty certain that this isn't the Lord Almighty, the creator of all things, and the father of Jesus Christ himself, but he has paid Rika a ridiculous amount of won to make his party happen and his mother is a slave to capitalism. @God has requested a lavish setting for a Christmas-in-summer event, with baubles and fake snow and tinsel and all that Westernized crap. 

Rika has toiled for the last few weeks to make it extra special, and it shows. The event is amazing, with all these little touches. All guests receive a welcome gift wrapped up in a simple silver box with a white glittery bow. Food is served on silver platters, and every dessert is paired with a dash of snow-like icing sugar. Even the waiters and waitresses are wearing silver bow ties, and Saeyoung is donning a red and green one to match the festive spirit. His mother has decided to stray away from playing Christmas music on the speakers, and has opted for some classical tunes for a less cheesy effect. 

This includes her hiring a live concert pianist, an old friend of hers named Rui. His performance is so touching that it has brought some members of the audience to tears, and even Saeyoung has to dab away some strange liquid at his eye. When Rui is done performing he is offered a glass of wine and an invitation to stay by the Almighty @God himself, and Rui takes a seat at the back of the event hall where Saeyoung is sitting next to Jaehee. Rui grins. "Hey, Saeran."

"Hi," Saeyoung says, not meeting Rui's gaze in the best Saeran-impression he can muster. He isn't going to mess up this time. 

Rui glances around the event hall, taking the sights and the sounds in. "This is a great event. Rika has really outdone herself, huh?" 

"Yeah," Saeyoung mutters, keeping his eyes trained on his phone screen. It isn't difficult, because he has set a cute selfie of him and MC as his wallpaper background. 

Rui chuckles. "Aw, is that all you have to say? Your mother has improved so much at running these events. I've known her since you were a toddler." He pauses, taking another sip of his wine, and it takes all of Saeyoung's inner strength for him to not say something to ruin the awkward silence between them. Thankfully, Rui speaks again, though what he says is hardly what Saeyoung expects next.

"You know, your mother has worked so hard to raise you." 

Saeyoung jolts up, turning to face Rui for the first time. "Uh, excuse me?"

Rui laughs again, a loud, rumbling laugh that rings from his belly. He leans back in the lush velvet chair, swirling his wine in its glass. "Yup. She's probably not the sort of person who'd talk about it, but I remember how she used to work nights and mornings to take care of you. Did you know she worked as a waitress to supplement her event-planning business?"

"No," Saeyoung says softly, though he isn't quite sure whether he's pretending this time. He leans in closer, voice hesitant. "Did... Do you know anything else?"

Rui nods. "Yup. It wasn't easy being a single mum, you know, especially when you've got a dream to handle at the same time. Rika made it happen through lots of hard work. Sometimes she'd sleep for only ten hours in a week to make ends meet for you and her. She always said it was worth it, though. Apparently," he says, leaning in and pinching Saeyoung on the cheek.

"She always said a family was the best thing that could have happened to her, ever."

For once in his life, Saeyoung is completely lost for words. All he can do is gape back at Rui, who has loosed his grip on Saeyoung's cheek and has resumed drinking his wine. Saeyoung is mostly quiet for the rest of the dinner, much to Jaehee's shock ("You haven't sent me a Longcat meme all evening. Are you okay?") and to Rui's nonchalance. Rika has barely come back to the table to rest during the event, and Saeyoung notices her flitting back and forth, talking to people and making sure everyone is comfortable. 

Hours later, the event comes to an end, and guests begin trailing out of the hall. Through the corner of his eye Saeyoung sees @God slide Rika a large stack of money, presumably a tip for her hard work. He files out the room, bringing a large entourage of people with him, leaving the staff behind to start cleaning up. Saeyoung gets up to his feet, ready to help. First though, he needs to talk to his mother. 

Standing near the front of the hall is the belle of the ball herself, the lady who made all of this possible—who made _his_ existence possible, who gave him life and shelter and a home away from home. Rika looks stunning in her flowing white dress and perfectly-curled hair, and as she laughs at a waiter's joke, Saeyoung is suddenly hit with how lucky he is to be related to her. She yawns, lifting a hand to her mouth, but she resumes wiping the table in front of her even if she doesn't have to, humming a little tune under her breath.

Saeyoung can't imagine being anyone else's child.

His mother's eyes widen in shock when he practically flings himself at her, wrapping his arms around her back super tightly. She turns to him, lips parted with surprise, but she is barely able to get a word out before he butts in.

"I love you so much, Mom. I just wanted you to know that." 

 

 

 

Everything comes to a halt when Glam comes over for dinner and leaves her phone on the coffee table. Saeran must really be out of ideas, because he snatches the phone and heads immediately to the bathroom. He doesn’t have time to hack into the interface, so Saeran sits on the edge of the bathtub and brainstorms for potential passwords.

Saeran tries his father’s birthday. No deal.

A quick search on naver reveals Glam’s own birthday, but that’s not the passcode either. While Saeran scrolling through the nebulous depths of the internet, an article about Glam’s latest appearance catches his eye. According to article, Glam was last scene at a bar with a famous nightclub owner… One week ago. Saeran frowns. Weren’t his father and Glam already engaged by then?

Just to be safe, Saeran looks up the profile of the nightclub owner. He’s a wealthy enough socialite that his birthday is revealed in his wiki page to be November 25th. Saeran slowly types in 1-1-2-5.

The passcode screen clears to reveal Glam’s apps. Saeran raises an eyebrow.

Unfortunately, Saeran only gets a few photos through the camera roll when the bathroom door opens. Shit shit shit, Saeran thinks. He shouldn’t have hopped in the bathroom closes to his father’s room, and he should have locked the door. Saeran drops the phone into the pocket of Saeyoung’s hoodie, but it’s too late. 

Judging by the expression on V’s face, he definitely recognizes the phone case. “Saeyoung,” he says slowly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!” Saeran shoots up and tries to run out of the bathroom, but V grabs him by the arm solidly. “ _What?_ ” 

V frowns and extends his free hand out, palms up. “Why did you have Glam’s phone?”

“I was trying to… Change her wallpaper to a photo of me! Surprise!” Saeran tries to think of what Saeyoung would say in this situation, but his father doesn’t seem to buy it. Saeran curses quietly while putting the phone in V’s hand. “Can I go now?”

His father is apparently not done. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I know you don’t necessarily get along with Glam, but I’ve raised you to be respectful-”

“Stop—” Saeran tries to wiggle his arm free. He already knows where this conversation is going.

“You’ve been acting strangely ever since you came back from camp,” his father continues, brows furrowed. “I’ve never seen you behave this way. What’s gotten into you, Saeyoung?”

The call for his brother is the final straw for Saeyoung. He whips his arm out of V’s grasp and snaps, “That’s because I’m not him, okay!?” 

V stares at him, shocked. 

Without another word, Saeran ducks out of the bathroom and into Saeyoung’s room.

It’s over, he thinks as he slams the door shut. The gig is up. Saeran is no longer welcomed here. He goes to the bathroom to wash his face, but is weirdly angry at the sight of his reflection in the mirror. Saeran is tired of pretending to be someone else, so he pops the colored contacts out and shrugs off Saeyoung’s hoodie. 

It’s probably too late to hop on a train back of Busan, but Saeran can probably spend the night at the station and take the first train out tomorrow morning. Haphazardly, he begins to throw things into his luggage. His mother would be shocked at his return, but Saeran can call Saeyoung beforehand to explain everything. He knows Saeyoung would understand—

“Saeyoung?” V asks from the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Going home,” Saeran grunts as he continues fumbling with the luggage. He probably doesn’t need to pack much. Saeyoung will come back here anyway, so there’s no need to repack half of his wardrobe. 

“Going _where_?” V asks. He sets a hand on Saeran’s arm and sighs. “What’s going on? What did you mean that you’re not—”

Saeran snaps around. “I’m not Saeyoung, okay?! Don’t you get it? I’m not your perfect son! I’m-I...” He loses fume easily and wipes haphazardly at the tears in his eyes.

“Are your eyes _green_?” V asks slowly. He goes to brush bangs out of Saeran’s face and falls silent when Saeran glares at him. “You—”

“I’m Saeran.”

V responds by standing up. “I should have known,” he says quietly before leaving the room.

Saeran feels his stomach drop. This is it. His father _really_ doesn’t want him here. He should have known that he would never be good enough to measure up to Saeyoung, who is fun and kind and everything Saeran isn’t. Saeran feels fat drops of tears sliding down his face, but he doesn’t have the energy to wipe them away. Instead, Saeran sits on the floor and glares at his suitcase until V reenters the room with something in his arms.

“Please don’t cry,” V says. His voice is foreign now, like he doesn’t know how to handle Saeran now the gig is up. “You’re wrong about Saeyoung being perfect. No one is perfect.”

Saeran has no clue where this is going. He closes his eyes to squeeze the tears out but blinks when V gently sets something down in Saeran’s lap. It’s a photo album.

“This is not how I envisioned our reunion to be,” V continues in his even, melodic voice. He opens the photo album, and Saeran is faced with stacks and stacks of baby photos. What surprises him is not the tuff of unruly red hair, but the matching expressions on both twins’ faces as they cry at the camera. “Don’t think for a minute that I’m unhappy to have you here. I’ve missed you so much in the last fourteen years. You are my son too, Saeran-ah.”

If possible, Saeran bursts out into more ugly crying. This is so uncool, he thinks as V pulls him gently into a hug. Yet, sobbing into his father’s expensive shirt is weirdly cathartic. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay.” V runs a soothing hand down Saeran’s back.

“I ruined your date night.”

V just hums. “Don’t worry about that. I sent Glam back already. _You_ are what’s important right now.”

For once, Saeran believes it.

 

 **Unknown** : Something happened  
**707** : D?  
**707** : D:?  
**707** : What  
**707** : Is  
**707** : Wrong?  
**707** : .. Saeran???  
**707** : ???  
**Unknown** : Dad found out.  
**707** : (,,꒪꒫꒪,,)  
**707** : （●´･△･｀）  
**707** : how did he react??  
**Unknown** : Okay. I think.  
**Unknown** : He wants to call mom.  
**Unknown** : You should probably tell her  
**707** : （○□○）

 

Saeyoung's heart is pounding against his chest and his mouth is dryer than the Sahara desert when he approaches his mother that evening. She is in the kitchen, washing the dishes after Saeyoung has lovingly prepared a meal of what was supposed to be tteokbokki, but had a texture of what appeared more like burned chilli and rice crackers instead. He swallows the lump in his throat. 

"Mum, I need to talk to you about something important. You might need to sit down."

Rika raises an eyebrow in curiosity, but allows herself to be led to the couch by a shaking Saeyoung, and takes a seat next to him on the padded blue cushions. Saeyoung takes a deep breath. This is going to be one of the toughest conversations of his life, up there with the time he tried to make Uncle Jumin a Powerpoint presentation on why he should be allowed to be around Elly 24/7. 

Hopefully this one won't result in his getting thrown out the apartment with a warning to never return without adult supervision. Saeyoung clears his throat. 

"So, uh," he begins, extremely eloquently. Rika cocks her head to the side, lips parting in mild surprise. 

"What did you want to tell me?" she asks. "You're acting rather strangely today, Saeran-ah."

"I, um," Saeyoung mutters. How is he even supposed to approach this subject? Memories of the last few months flash through his mind: Saeyoung hanging out in Rika's office and chatting with her clients, Rika playing with Youngyoung, going grocery shopping together and saying hi to all Rika's friends on the street, getting ice cream together, watching Korean dramas together. A summer of memories with his mother that he never thought he'd get to experience in his lifetime, and he isn't ready for it all to be over. "Mum, you know I love you, right?"

"Yes, but what brought this on—" Rika begins, but is swiftly interrupted by a loud, blubbering noise.

"I want you to know that you... That you've been a wonderful mother! I've had the most amazing time after I came back from camp and it almost feels like a dream. You've given up so much for me and you're such a wonderful person, I can't imagine w-what it must have been like to raise a child on your own all the way here in Busan." Tears begin to well up in his eyes, and Saeyoung blinks them away. "Dad missed out on so much."

Rika gapes at him with surprise. "Saeran-ah, what brought this on?"

"I'm not Saeran!"

The words spill from his lips before he has a chance to really process them, and Saeyoung covers his mouth, eyes wide. This is it. This is the moment he gets kicked out onto the streets, with only a few belongings tied into a bundle at the back of a stick, sent wandering around lost and alone for eternity. Still, while he's talking, he might as well admit the truth. 

"I'm your other son, Saeyoung..." 

Just like how things were when he spoke to Assistant Kang and MC, the entire story starts spilling out—meeting Saeran at camp, fighting him and getting him into trouble, and the sheer emotional magnitude of finding out that he had a mother and that he'd had another half, living in Busan, the entire time. Rika is extremely quiet the entire time, nodding along, lips pulled into a thin line. And as Saeyoung continues his tale the panic rising in his gut only grows bigger, and bigger, overwhelming him like a blanket of demonic chants, but he carries on. 

He talks about the switch and coming home and meeting Saeran's friends, and then about accidentally letting things slip to Assistant Kang and then MC. Then the party, and Rui, and then about Saeran telling V the truth before either of them are ready. Saeyoung takes a deep breath when he finishes the tale, before burying his face in his hands. 

Rika has still said nothing. Somehow, Saeyoung manages to bring himself to look his mother in the eye. He gets up from where he is sitting, shuffling in the direction of Saeran's room. 

"I can go now, if you want," Saeyoung says underneath his breath. "I suppose you probably want your real son back." 

Saeran is quiet, and probably knows the right things to say when Rika is sad. He doesn't cause trouble, or mess up his room the way Saeyoung does. 

Saeyoung doesn't expect Rika to get up from where she is sitting, and to throw her arms around him in a tight hug. 

His mother shakes as she pulls him in closer, and Saeyoung's lips part, unsure how to react or whether there are the right words to say—he settles for wrapping his arms around her too, hugging her back. She buries her head in his shoulder, and Saeyoung feels something wet on his shirt. Somehow, he manages to muster up the courage to ask her, "You're not mad?"

Rika shakes her head. Tears are still streaming down her face. "I can't... I can't believe you're here, Saeyoung-ah."

She drags him back onto the couch, all thoughts of the washing-up suddenly forgotten. Saeyoung spends the next few hours telling Rika about the last fifteen years: about his life back in Seoul, his friends Zen and Vanderwood, and his love for computers and programming, just like Saeran. He shows Rika some photos of him with Uncle Jumin and Elizabeth III, ("I love Elly so much!" "Saeyoung-ah, did you know I was the one who gave him Elizabeth I?" "Wait. WHAT?????") and then photos of him with his friends at school, and finally, selfies that he and Saeran took together at camp, with Saeyoung beaming brightly into the camera and Saeran looking like he would rather be kidnapped and drugged by a cult. Rika laughs at the pictures, saying "That's more like the Saeran I know," before adding, "And I'm happy I got to know Saeyoung this summer too."

There is a pause after this. Saeyoung shifts uncomfortably on his seat, unsure what to say next, or where they are supposed to go from here. 

Rika breaks the silence with a sudden, "So, do you have your father's number? I'd like to speak to him."

Saeyoung nods, heart suddenly racing again. "S-sure," he says, pulling out Saeran's cell phone and dialing the number from memory. The phone rings a few times, and V picks the phone up. Saeyoung grins sheepishly. "Hi, dad?"

He can picture his father shaking his head. "I can't believe the two of you did this, but I can't say that I'm angry."

Saeyoung laughs. "Yeah, uh, let me pass the phone over to Mum for a second." He hands Rika the cell phone, and leans forward, eager to see how the conversation goes.

Rika frowns slightly as she takes the phone from Saeyoung. "Hello? Jihyun? It's Rika on the phone." There is an awkward pause between the two of them. "I'm doing well, and I hope you are too." 

Her tone is ice-cold, and Saeyoung feels a sudden lurch in his chest. There is muttering on the other line, and Rika sighs. 

"Yes, I understand. Your on-location shoot is important. I can come and pick Saeran up in Seoul myself, and I'll bring Saeyoung and take care of the two for a couple of days. Don't you worry."

More dad-like mumbling on the other end. Saeyoung strains to catch what his father is saying, and manages to make out the words "come along" and "extra room". His deduction must be somewhat accurate, because Rika sits up a little straighter, and the slightest hint of warmth floods into her voice.

"Really? I don't want to trouble you... Ah, yes, it's for the boys. That is true, you are their father, after all. I'll get Saeyoung to text you my corporate e-mail address so you can send me the itinerary. See you in two weeks, I suppose." There is some more mumbling on the other end, and Rika closes her eyes. "I appreciate your gesture." 

She ends the phone call with a click, and turns to Saeyoung with a small smile on her face.

"Well, I suppose we're seeing your brother and your father in a week. Pack your bags, there's a suite waiting for us."

 **707** : OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG  
**707** : OUR PLAN IS WORKING!!!!  
**Unknown** : I almost can't believe it myself.  
**707** : STEP ONE: OUR PARENTS REUNITE  
**707** : STEP TWO: THEY GET MARRIED AGAIN  
**707** : STEP THREE: ?????  
**707** : STEP 4: PROFIT!!!!!!!!!!!  
**Unknown** : I'm going to pretend I understood that. 

 

Saeyoung doesn't make any attempt to hide the extra spring in his step or the grin on his face now he no longer has to pretend to be Saeran. He bounces into every room and beams super brightly every time he remembers that he's going to be reunited with his family: just the four of them, in a resort, having the time of their lives. It will be absolutely perfect, and nobody will be able to ruin it for them.

Alas, happiness, like getting to pet Elizabeth III, is fleeting and temporary. Saeyoung returns home after hanging out with MC and Yoosung one evening to overhear Rika on the phone with his father, sitting on the couch. He sits down next to her, leaning in ever so closely so he might be able to catch a hint of what his father is saying, grinning widely. The conversation seems to be winding down and they are discussing logistics: where to meet, what to bring, etc. Rika nods.

"See you, Saeran and Glam in a few days, then," she says, shutting the phone off with a click. Saeyoung blinks. This can't be real. His face turns white, and his jaw practically hangs open with horror. 

"Wait. Bla—I mean, Glam is going to be there?"

"Yes," Rika says. "She's your father's fiance, after all."

Saeyoung's eyes widen. No, no, no! This can't be happening. This isn't real, this isn't real. "You—you're joking right?" 

"Not at all." 

"WHY @GOD?" Saeyoung exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air. 

Rika raises an eyebrow. "Did you just say @God?" 

"Uh," Saeyoung says, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Never mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took us a while: it ended up being longer than we expected it to be! We hope you're still reading and all enjoying the fic.
> 
> Once again, special thanks to Para for helping us beta this monster. <3


End file.
